He recovered his calm, and began walking up and down the pavement, going and coming, in perfect peace of mind.

At moments, he forgot the events that were passing.

He looked at the shops, whistled between his teeth, turned round to ogle the women who brushed past him.

He remained thus for a full half-hour in the street, recovering his composure more and more.
He had not eaten since the morning, and feeling hungry he entered a pastrycook's and stuffed himself with cakes.
A heartrending scene was passing at the shop in the arcade.
Notwithstanding precautions, notwithstanding the soft, friendly sentences of old Michaud, there came a moment when Madame Raquin understood that her son had met with misfortune.

From that moment, she insisted on knowing the truth with such a passionate outburst of despair, with such a violent flow of tears and shrieks, that her old friend could not avoid giving way to her.
And when she learnt the truth, her grief was tragic.