On the Thursday following the marriage, Grivet and Michaud made
a triumphant entry into the dining-room. They had conquered. The
dining-room belonged to them again. They no longer feared dismissal.
They came there as happy people, stretching out their legs, and cracking
their former jokes, one after the other. It could be seen from their
delighted and confident attitude that, in their idea, a revolution had
been accomplished. All recollection of Camille had been dispelled. The
dead husband, the spectre that cast a chill over everyone, had
been driven away by the living husband. The past and its joys were
resuscitated. Laurent took the place of Camille, all cause for sadness
disappeared, the guests could now laugh without grieving anyone; and,
indeed, it was their duty to laugh to cheer up this worthy family who
were good enough to receive them.
Henceforth, Grivet and Michaud, who for nearly eighteen months had
visited the house under the pretext of consoling Madame Raquin, could
set their little hypocrisy aside, and frankly come and doze opposite one
another to the sharp ring of the dominoes.
And each week brought a Thursday evening, each week those lifeless and
grotesque heads which formerly had exasperated Therese, assembled round
the table.
Pages:
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225