Then, she quitted them as useless.
She now fell a prey to despondent idleness which kept her at home, in
a dirty petticoat, with hair uncombed, and face and hands unwashed. She
neglected everything and lived in filth.
When the two murderers came together again face to face, in this
manner, after having done their best to get away from each other,
they understood that they would no longer have strength to struggle.
Debauchery had rejected them, it had just cast them back to their
anguish. Once more they were in the dark, damp lodging in the arcade;
and, henceforth, were as if imprisoned there, for although they had
often attempted to save themselves, never had they been able to
sever the sanguinary bond attaching them. They did not even think of
attempting a task they regarded as impossible. They found themselves so
urged on, so overwhelmed, so securely fastened together by events, that
they were conscious all resistance would be ridiculous. They resumed
their life in common, but their hatred became furious rage.
The quarrels at night began again. But for that matter, the blows
and cries lasted all day long. To hatred distrust was now added, and
distrust put the finishing touch to their folly.
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