Fatigued and appeased, he sank into a sort of gentle and uncertain torpor.

As he fell asleep, he decided he would await a favourable opportunity, and his thoughts, fleeting further and further away, lulled him to rest with the murmur: "I will kill him, I will kill him." Five minutes later, he was at rest, breathing with serene regularity.
Therese returned home at eleven o'clock, with a burning head, and her thoughts strained, reaching the Arcade of the Pont Neuf unconscious of the road she had taken.

It seemed to her that she had just come downstairs from her visit to Laurent, so full were her ears of the words she had recently heard.

She found Madame Raquin and Camille anxious and attentive; but she answered their questions sharply, saying she had been on a fools' errand, and had waited an hour on the pavement for an omnibus.
When she got into bed, she found the sheets cold and damp.

Her limbs, which were still burning, shuddered with repugnance.