Laurent never bothered to find out about her, where she went, what she did.

She was a steadying influence in his life, a useful and necessary thing.

He never wondered if he loved her and he never considered that he was being unfaithful to Therese.

He simply felt better and happier.
In the meanwhile the period of mourning that Therese had imposed on herself, had come to an end, and the young woman put on light-coloured gowns.

One evening, Laurent found her looking younger and handsomer.
But he still felt uncomfortable in her presence.