It seemed to embarrass her too, for she sat down with lowered lids.
Then Daubrecq leant over her and it appeared as though he were ready to
fling his long arms, with their huge hands, around her. And, suddenly,
Lupin perceived great tears rolling down the woman's sad face.

Whether or not it was the sight of those tears that made Daubrecq lose
his head, with a brusque movement he clutched the woman and drew her to
him. She repelled him, with a violence full of hatred. And, after a
brief struggle, during which Lupin caught a glimpse of the man's bestial
and contorted features, the two of them stood face to face, railing at
each other like mortal enemies.

Then they stopped. Daubrecq sat down. There was mischief in his face,
and sarcasm as well. And he began to talk again, with sharp taps on the
table, as though he were dictating terms.

She no longer stirred. She sat haughtily in her chair and towered over
him, absent-minded, with roaming eyes. Lupin, captivated by that
powerful and sorrowful countenance, continued to watch her; and he was
vainly seeking to remember of what or of whom she reminded him, when he
noticed that she had turned her head slightly and that she was
imperceptibly moving her arm.

And her arm strayed farther and farther and her hand crept along the
table and Lupin saw that, at the end of the table, there stood a
water-bottle with a gold-topped stopper. The hand reached the
water-bottle, felt it, rose gently and seized the stopper. A quick
movement of the head, a glance, and the stopper was put back in its
place. Obviously, it was not what the woman hoped to find.