communicated with the arcade by an obscure narrow passage.

The husband who was always trembling with fever went to bed, while the
young woman opened the window to close the shutter blinds. She remained
there a few minutes facing the great black wall, which ascends and
stretches above the arcade. She cast a vague wandering look upon this
wall, and, without a word she, in her turn, went to bed in disdainful
indifference.

CHAPTER II

Madame Raquin had formerly been a mercer at Vernon. For close upon
five-and-twenty years, she had kept a small shop in that town. A few
years after the death of her husband, becoming subject to fits of
faintness, she sold her business. Her savings added to the price of this
sale placed a capital of 40,000 francs in her hand which she invested so
that it brought her in an income of 2,000 francs a year. This sum amply
sufficed for her requirements. She led the life of a recluse. Ignoring
the poignant joys and cares of this world, she arranged for herself a
tranquil existence of peace and happiness.

At an annual rental of 400 francs she took a small house with a garden
descending to the edge of the Seine. This enclosed, quiet residence
vaguely recalled the cloister. It stood in the centre of large fields,
and was approached by a narrow path. The windows of the dwelling opened
to the river and to the solitary hillocks on the opposite bank. The good
lady, who had passed the half century, shut herself up in this solitary
retreat, where along with her son Camille and her niece Therese, she
partook of serene joy.

Although Camille was then twenty, his mother continued to spoil him like
a little child. She adored him because she had shielded him from death,
throughout a tedious childhood of constant suffering. The boy contracted
every fever, every imaginable malady, one after the other. Madame Raquin
struggled for fifteen years against these terrible evils, which arrived
in rapid succession to tear her son away from her. She vanquished them
all by patience, care, and adoration. Camille having grown up, rescued
from death, had contracted a shiver from the torture of the repeated
shocks he had undergone. Arrested in his growth, he remained short and
delicate. His long, thin limbs moved slowly and wearily. But his mother
loved him all the more on account of this weakness that arched his back.
She observed his thin, pale face with triumphant tenderness when she
thought of how she had brought