But when her husband appeared on the threshold she felt a tightening in the throat, and all her being once more became a prey to anguish.
Each day, the sensations of the couple were practically the same.

During the daytime, when they were not face to face, they enjoyed delightful hours of repose; at night, as soon as they came together, both experienced poignant discomfort.
The evenings, nevertheless, were calm.

Therese and Laurent, who shuddered at the thought of going to their room, sat up as long as possible.

Madame Raquin, reclining in a great armchair, was placed between them, and chatted in her placid voice.

She spoke of Vernon, still thinking of her son, but avoiding to mention him from a sort of feeling of diffidence for the others; she smiled at her dear children, and formed plans for their future.