The invariable result of these reflections was that supreme happiness
consisted in doing nothing. Then he remembered that if he had drowned
Camille, it was to marry Therese, and work no more. Certainly, the
thought of having his sweetheart all to himself had greatly influenced
him in committing the crime, but he had perhaps been led to it still
more, by the hope of taking the place of Camille, of being looked after
in the same way, and of enjoying constant beatitude. Had passion alone
urged him to the deed, he would not have shown such cowardice and
prudence. The truth was that he had sought by murder to assure himself a
calm, indolent life, and the satisfaction of his cravings.

All these thoughts, avowedly or unconsciously, returned to him. To find
encouragement, he repeated that it was time to gather in the harvest
anticipated by the death of Camille, and he spread out before him, the
advantages and blessings of his future existence: he would leave his
office, and live in delicious idleness; he would eat, drink and sleep to
his heart's content; he would have an affectionate wife beside him; and,
he would shortly inherit the 40,000 francs and more of Madame Raquin,
for the poor old woman was dying, little by little, every day; in a
word, he would carve out for himself the existence of a happy brute, and
would forget everything.

Laurent mentally repeated these ideas at every moment, since his
marriage with Therese had been decided on. He also sought other
advantages that would result therefrom, and felt delighted when he found
a new argument, drawn from his egotism, in favour of his union with the
widow of the drowned man. But however much he forced himself to hope,
however much he dreamed of a future full of idleness and pleasure, he
never ceased to feel abrupt shudders that gave his skin an icy chill,