CHAPTER XIX
In the meanwhile, the secret work of Therese and Laurent was productive
of results. The former had assumed a woeful and despairing demeanour
which at the end of a few days alarmed Madame Raquin. When the old
mercer inquired what made her niece so sad, the young woman played the
part of an inconsolable widow with consummate skill. She spoke in a
vague manner of feeling weary, depressed, of suffering from her nerves,
without making any precise complaint. When pressed by her aunt with
questions, she replied that she was well, that she could not imagine
what it was that made her so low-spirited, and that she shed tears
without knowing why.
Then, the constant choking fits of sobbing, the wan, heartrending
smiles, the spells of crushing silence full of emptiness and despair,
continued.
The sight of this young woman who was always giving way to her grief,
who seemed to be slowly dying of some unknown complaint, ended by
seriously alarming Madame Raquin. She had, now, no one in the whole
world but her niece, and she prayed the Almighty every night to preserve
her this relative to close her eyes. A little egotism was mingled with
this final love of her old age.
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