iffen himself,
endeavouring to turn round and bite the hand that grasped him. But
Laurent held fast. He whirled the cat round two or three times in the
air, and then sent him flying with all the strength of his arm, against
the great dark wall opposite. Francois went flat against it, and
breaking his spine, fell upon the glass roof of the arcade. All night
the wretched beast dragged himself along the gutter mewing hoarsely,
while Madame Raquin wept over him almost as much as she had done over
Camille. Therese had an atrocious attack of hysterics, while the wailing
of the cat sounded sinisterly, in the gloom below the windows.

Laurent soon had further cause for anxiety. He became alarmed at a
certain change he observed in the attitude of his wife.

Therese became sombre and taciturn. She no longer lavished effusions
of repentance and grateful kisses on Madame Raquin. In presence of the
paralysed woman, she resumed her manner of frigid cruelty and egotistic
indifference. It seemed as though she had tried remorse, and finding no
relief had turned her attention to another remedy. Her sadness was no
doubt due to her inability to calm her life.

She observed the impotent old woman with a kind of disdain, as a useless
thing that could no longer even serve her for consolation. She now only
bestowed on her the necessary attention to prevent her dying of hunger.
From this moment she dragged herself about the house in silence and
dejection. She multiplied her absences from the shop, going out as
frequently as three and four times a week.

It was this change in her mode of life, that surprised and alarmed
Laurent. He fancied that her remorse had taken another form, and was now
displayed by this mournful weariness he noticed in her. This weariness
seemed to him more alarming than the chattering despair she had
overwhelmed him with previously. She no longer spoke, she no longer
quarrelled with him, she seemed to consign everything to the depths of
her being. He would rather have heard her exhausting her endurance than
see her keep in this manner to herself. He feared that one day she
would be choking with anguish, and to obtain relief, would go and relate
everything to a priest or an examining magistrate.

Then these numerous absences of Therese had frightful significance in
his eyes. He thought she went to find a confidant outside, that she was
preparing her treason. On two occasions he tried to follow her, and lost
her in the