After an interval of a few minutes, as soon as he had fallen asleep again, forgetful of the hideous corpse awaiting him, he once more hurried away to seek the young woman.
Laurent passed an hour a prey to these successive nightmares, to these bad dreams that followed one another ceaselessly, without any warning, and he was struck with more acute terror at each start they gave him.
The last of these shocks proved so violent, so painful that he determined to get up, and struggle no longer.

Day was breaking.

A gleam of dull, grey light was entering at the window in the roof which cut out a pale grey square in the sky.
Laurent slowly dressed himself, with a feeling of sullen irritation, exasperated at having been unable to sleep, exasperated at allowing himself to be caught by a fright which he now regarded as childish.

As he drew on this trousers he stretched himself, he rubbed his limbs, he passed his hands over his face, harassed and clouded by a feverish night.

And he repeated: "I ought not to have thought of all that, I should have gone to sleep.
Had I done so, I should be fresh and well-disposed now." Then it occurred to him that if he had been with Therese, she would have prevented him being afraid, and this idea brought him a little calm.