It's horrible. And that poor Madame Raquin, his mother, whatever
shall we say to her? Certainly, you were quite right to come and find
us. We will go with you."
Rising from his seat, he walked hither and thither about the apartment,
stamping with his feet, in search of his hat and walking-stick; and, as
he bustled from corner to corner, he made Laurent repeat the details of
the catastrophe, giving utterance to fresh exclamations at the end of
each sentence.
At last all four went downstairs. On reaching the entrance to the Arcade
of the Pont Neuf, Laurent was stopped by Michaud.
"Do not accompany us any further," said he; "your presence would be a
sort of brutal avowal which must be avoided. The wretched mother would
suspect a misfortune, and this would force us to confess the truth
sooner than we ought to tell it to her. Wait for us here."
This arrangement relieved the murderer, who shuddered at the thought
of entering the shop in the arcade. He recovered his calm, and began
walking up and down the pavement, going and coming, in perfect peace of
mind. At moments, he forgot the events that were passing. He looked at
the shops, whistled between his teeth, turned round to ogle the women
who brushed past him.
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