He heaved a sigh as he wiped his brow.

How hard, indeed, it was to win fortune and honours! However, he was nearing the end at last.

He felt the soft seat of the arm-chair yield beneath him, while with a mechanical movement he caressed the mahogany writing-table with his hands, finding it apparently quite silky and delicate, like the skin of a beautiful woman.

Then he spread himself out, and assumed the dignified attitude which Macquart had previously affected while listening to the proclamation.

The silence of the room seemed fraught with religious solemnity, which inspired Rougon with exquisite delight.
Everything, even the dust and the old documents lying in the corners, seemed to exhale an odour of incense, which rose to his dilated nostrils.