He had killed Camille.

It was a matter that was settled, and would be spoken of no more.

He was now going to lead a tranquil existence, until he could take possession of Therese.
The thought of the murder had at times half choked him, but now that it was accomplished, he felt a weight removed from his chest, and breathed at ease, cured of the suffering that hesitation and fear had given him.
At the bottom of his heart, he was a trifle hebetated.

Fatigue had rendered his limbs and thoughts heavy.

He went in to bed and slept soundly.