The conflict was a cruel one; the lad knew that he must first strike
his mother. Step by step, with patient tenacity, he executed a plan
whose every detail he had long previously thought out. His tactics were
to appear before Adélaïde like a living reproach—not that he flew into
a passion, or upbraided her for her misconduct; but he had acquired a
certain manner of looking at her, without saying a word, which
terrified her. Whenever she returned from a short sojourn in Macquart’s
hovel she could not turn her eyes on her son without a shudder. She
felt his cold glances, as sharp as steel blades pierce her deeply and
pitilessly. The severe, taciturn demeanour of the child of the man whom
she had so soon forgotten strangely troubled her poor disordered brain.
She would fancy at times that Rougon had risen from the dead to punish
her for her dissoluteness. Every week she fell into one of those
nervous fits which were shattering her constitution. She was left to
struggle until she recovered consciousness, after which she would creep
about more feebly than ever. She would also often sob the whole night
long, holding her head in her hands, and accepting the wounds that
Pierre dealt her with resignation, as if they had been the strokes of
an avenging deity. At other times she repudiated him; she would not
acknowledge her own flesh and blood in that heavy-faced lad, whose
calmness chilled her own feverishness so painfully. She would a
thousand times rather have been beaten than glared at like that. Those
implacable looks, which followed her everywhere, threw her at last into
such unbearable torments that on several occasions she determined to
see her lover no more. As soon, however, as Macquart returned she
forgot her vows and hastened to him. The conflict with her son began
afresh, silent and terrible, when she came back home. At the end of a
few months she fell completely under his sway. She stood before him
like a child doubtful of her behaviour and fearing that she deserves a
whipping. Pierre had skilfully bound her hand and foot, and made a very
submissive servant of her, without opening his lips, without once
entering into difficult and compromising explanations.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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