Laurent added, in an unsteady tone of voice, that he loved the widow of his poor friend as a sister, and that it would seem to him a perfect sacrilege to marry her.

The former commissary of police insisted, giving numerous good reasons with a view to obtaining his consent.

He even spoke of devotedness, and went so far as to tell the young man that it was clearly his duty to give a son to Madame Raquin and a husband to Therese.
Little by little Laurent allowed himself to be won over, feigning to give way to emotion, to accept the idea of this marriage as one fallen from the clouds, dictated by feelings of devotedness and duty, as old Michaud had said.

When the latter had obtained a formal answer in the affirmative, he parted with his companion, rubbing his hands, for he fancied he had just gained a great victory.

He prided himself on having had the first idea of this marriage which would convey to the Thursday evenings all their former gaiety.
While Michaud was talking with Laurent, slowly following the quays, Madame Raquin had an almost identical conversation with Therese.