ey were aware that they would prove nothing, that they would not
succeed in effacing the past, and still they attempted this task, still
they returned to the charge, spurred on by pain and terror, vanquished
in advance by overwhelming reality. The sole advantage they derived from
their disputes, consisted in producing a tempest of words and cries, and
the riot occasioned in this manner momentarily deafened them.

And all the time their anger lasted, all the time they were accusing one
another, the paralysed woman never ceased to gaze at them. Ardent joy
sparkled in her eyes, when Laurent raised his broad hand above the head
of Therese.

CHAPTER XXIX

Matters now took a different aspect. Therese, driven into a corner by
fright, not knowing which way to turn for a consoling thought, began to
weep aloud over the drowned man, in the presence of Laurent.

She abruptly became depressed, her overstrained nerves relaxed,
her unfeeling and violent nature softened. She had already felt
compassionate in the early days of her second marriage, and this feeling
now returned, as a necessary and fatal reaction.

When the young woman had struggled with all her nervous energy against
the spectre of Camille, when she had lived in sullen irritation for
several months up in arms against her sufferings, seeking to get the
better of them by efforts of will, she all at once experienced such
extraordinary lassitude that she yielded vanquished. Then, having become
a woman again, even a little girl, no longer feeling the strength
to stiffen herself, to stand feverishly erect before her terror, she
plunged into pity, into tears and regret, in the hope of finding some
relief. She sought to reap advantage from her weakness of body and mind.
Perhaps the drowned man, who had not given way to her irritation, would
be more unbending to her tears.

Her remorse was all calculation. She thought that this would no doubt be
the best way to appease and satisfy Camille. Like certain devotees, who
fancy they will deceive the Almighty, and secure pardon by praying
with their lips, and assuming the humble attitude of penitence, Therese
displayed humility, striking her chest, finding words of repentance,
without having anything at the bottom of her heart save fear and
cowardice. Besides, she experienced a sort of physical pleasure in
giving way in this manner, in feeling feeble and undone, in abandoning
herself to grief without resistance.

She overwhe