A shudder of terror had suddenly shaken his limbs, and had clung to him.

At night, he suffered even more than Therese; and fright, in this great, soft, cowardly frame, produced profound laceration to the feelings.

He watched the fall of day with cruel apprehension.

On several occasions, he failed to return home, and passed whole nights walking in the middle of the deserted streets.
Once he remained beneath a bridge, until morning, while the rain poured down in torrents; and there, huddled up, half frozen, not daring to rise and ascend to the quay, he for nearly six hours watched the dirty water running in the whitish shadow.

At times a fit of terror brought him flat down on the damp ground: under one of the arches of the bridge he seemed to see long lines of drowned bodies drifting along in the current.