rounded eyes, partaking of the joy of an idiot when he perceived them
bestir themselves. At last he turned homewards, dragging his feet along,
busying himself with the passers-by, with the vehicles, and the shops.

As soon as he arrived he dined, and then began reading. He had purchased
the works of Buffon, and, every evening, he set himself to peruse twenty
to thirty pages, notwithstanding the wearisome nature of the task. He
also read in serial, at 10 centimes the number, "The History of the
Consulate and Empire" by Thiers, and "The History of the Girondins" by
Lamartine, as well as some popular scientific works. He fancied he was
labouring at his education. At times, he forced his wife to listen to
certain pages, to particular anecdotes, and felt very much astonished
that Therese could remain pensive and silent the whole evening, without
being tempted to take up a book. And he thought to himself that his wife
must be a woman of very poor intelligence.

Therese thrust books away from her with impatience. She preferred to
remain idle, with her eyes fixed, and her thoughts wandering and lost.
But she maintained an even, easy temper, exercising all her will to
render herself a passive instrument, replete with supreme complaisance
and abnegation.

The shop did not do much business. The profit was the same regularly
each month. The customers consisted of female workpeople living in the
neighbourhood. Every five minutes a young girl came in to purchase a few
sous worth of goods. Therese served the people with words that were ever
the same, with a smile that appeared mechanically on her lisp. Madame
Raquin displayed a more unbending, a more gossipy disposition, and, to
tell the truth, it was she who attracted and retained the customers.