The Thursday receptions continued, the impotent old lady being present,
as in the past. Her armchair was advanced to the table, and from eight
o'clock till eleven she kept her eyes open, casting penetrating glances
from one to another of her guests in turn. On the first few of these
evenings, old Michaud and Grivet felt some embarrassment in the presence
of the corpse of their old friend. They did not know what countenance to
put on. They only experienced moderate sorrow, and they were inquiring
in their minds in what measure it would be suitable to display their
grief. Should they speak to this lifeless form? Should they refrain
from troubling about it? Little by little, they decided to treat Madame
Raquin as though nothing had happened to her. They ended by feigning
to completely ignore her condition. They chatted with her, putting
questions and giving the answers, laughing both for her and for
themselves, and never permitting the rigid expression on the countenance
to baffle them.
It was a strange sight: these men who appeared to be speaking sensibly
to a statue, just as little girls talk to their dolls. The paralysed
woman sat rigid and mute before them, while they babbled, multiplying
their gestures in exceedingly animated conversations with her.
Pages:
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255