arrive. I loitered round your chair, so as to move in your breath, to
drag my clothes over yours. It seemed as though your blood cast puffs of
heat on me as I passed, and it was this sort of burning cloud in which
you were enveloped, that attracted me, and detained me beside you in
spite of my secret revolt. You remember when you were painting here:
a fatal power attracted me to your side, and I breathed your air with
cruel delight. I know I seemed to be begging for kisses, I felt ashamed
of my bondage, I felt I should fall, if you were to touch me. But I gave
way to my cowardice, I shivered with cold, waiting until you chose to
take me in your arms."

When Therese ceased speaking, she was quivering, as though proud at
being avenged. In this bare and chilly room were enacted scenes of
burning lust, sinister in their brutality.

On her part Therese seemed to revel in daring. The only precaution she
would take when expecting her lover was to tell her aunt she was going
upstairs to rest. But then, when he was there she never bothered about
avoiding noise, walking about and talking. At first this terrified
Laurent.

"For God's sake," he whispered, "don't make so much noise. Madame Raquin
will hear."

Therese would laugh. "Who cares, you are always so worried. She is at
her counter and won't leave. She is too afraid of being robbed. Besides,
you can hide."

Laurent's passion had not yet stifled his native peasant caution, but
soon he grew used to the risks of these meetings, only a few yards from