He suffered a little more by forcing himself into a dissolute mode of life, and that was all.

Then, when he returned home, when he saw Madame Raquin and Therese again, his weariness brought on frightful fits of terror.

And he vowed he would leave the house no more, that he would put up with his suffering, so as to become accustomed to it, and be able to conquer it.
For a month Therese lived, like Laurent, on the pavement and in the cafes.

She returned daily for a moment, in the evening to feed Madame Raquin and put her to bed, and then disappeared again until the morrow.
She and her husband on one occasion were four days without setting eyes on each other.

At last, she experienced profound disgust at the life she was leading, feeling that vice succeeded no better with her than the comedy of remorse.
In vain had she dragged through all the lodging-houses in the Latin Quarter, in vain had she led a low, riotous life.