He remained thus for a full half-hour in the
street, recovering his composure more and more.
He had not eaten since the morning, and feeling hungry he entered a
pastrycook's and stuffed himself with cakes.
A heartrending scene was passing at the shop in the arcade.
Notwithstanding precautions, notwithstanding the soft, friendly
sentences of old Michaud, there came a moment when Madame Raquin
understood that her son had met with misfortune. From that moment,
she insisted on knowing the truth with such a passionate outburst of
despair, with such a violent flow of tears and shrieks, that her old
friend could not avoid giving way to her.
And when she learnt the truth, her grief was tragic. She gave hollow
sobs, she received shocks that threw her backward, in a distracting
attack of terror and anguish. She remained there choking, uttering
from time to time a piercing scream amidst the profound roar of her
affliction. She would have dragged herself along the ground, had not
Suzanne taken her round the waist, weeping on her knees, and raising
her pale countenance towards her. Olivier and his father on their feet,
unnerved and mute, turned aside their heads, being disagreeably affected
at this painful sight which wounded them in their egotism.
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