Laurent had noticed the trouble, and outburst of tender feeling that this name produced.

He could make her weep at will, upset her with such emotion that she failed to distinguish the clear aspect of things; and he took advantage of this power to always hold her pliant and in pain in his hand, as it were.
Each evening in spite of the secret revolt of his trembling inner being, he brought the conversation to bear on the rare qualities, on the tender heart and mind of Camille, praising his victim with most shameless impudence.

At moments, when he found the eyes of Therese fixed with a strange expression on his own, he shuddered, and ended by believing all the good he had been saying about the drowned man.

Then he held his tongue, suddenly seized with atrocious jealousy, fearing that the young widow loved the man he had flung into the water, and whom he now lauded with the conviction of an enthusiast.
Throughout the conversation Madame Raquin was in tears, and unable to distinguish anything around her.

As she wept, she reflected that Laurent must have a loving and generous heart.