One day out of seven, on the Thursday evening, the Raquin family received their friends. They lit a large lamp in the dining-room, and put water on the fire to make tea. There was quite a set out. This particular evening emerged in bold relief from the others. It had become one of the customs of the family, who regarded it in the light of a middle-class orgie full of giddy gaiety. They did not retire to rest until eleven o'clock at night.
At Paris Madame Raquin had found one of her old friends, the commissary of police Michaud, who had held a post at Vernon for twenty years, lodging1 in the same house as the mercer. A narrow intimacy2 had thus been established between them; then, when the widow had sold her business to go and reside in the house beside the river, they had little by little lost sight of one another. Michaud left the provinces a few months later, and came to live peacefully in Paris, Rue3 de Seine, on his pension of 1,500 francs. One rainy day, he met his old friend in the Arcade4 of the Pont Neuf, and the same evening dined with the family.
The Thursday receptions began in this way: the former commissary of police got into the habit of calling on the Raquins regularly once a week. After a while he came accompanied by his son Olivier, a great fellow of thirty, dry and thin, who had married a very little woman, slow and sickly. This Olivier held the post of head clerk in the section of order and security at the Prefecture of Police, worth 3,000 francs a year, which made Camille feel particularly jealous. From the first day he made his appearance, Therese detested5 this cold, rigid6 individual, who imagined he honoured the shop in the arcade by making a display of his great shrivelled-up frame, and the exhausted7 condition of his poor little wife.
Camille introduced another guest, an old clerk at the Orleans Railway, named Grivet, who had been twenty years in the service of the company, where he now held the position of head clerk, and earned 2,100 francs a year. It was he who gave out the work in the office where Camille had found employment, and the latter showed him certain respect. Camille, in his day dreams, had said to himself that Grivet would one day die, and that he would perhaps take his place at the end of a decade or so. Grivet was delighted at the welcome Madame Raquin gave him, and he returned every week with perfect regularity8. Six months later, his Thursday visit had become, in his way of thinking, a duty: he went to the Arcade of the Pont Neuf, just as he went every morning to his office, that is to say mechanically, and with the instinct of a brute9.
From this moment, the gatherings10 became charming. At seven o'clock Madame Raquin lit the fire, set the lamp in the centre of the table, placed a box of dominoes beside it, and wiped the tea service which was in the sideboard. Precisely11 at eight o'clock old Michaud and Grivet met before the shop, one coming from the Rue de Seine, and the other from the Rue Mazarine. As soon as they entered, all the family went up to the first floor. There, in the dining-room, they seated themselves round the table waiting for Olivier Michaud and his wife who always arrived late. When the party was complete, Madame Raquin poured out the tea. Camille emptied the box of dominoes on the oilcloth table cover, and everyone became deeply interested in their hands. Henceforth nothing could be heard but the jingle12 of dominoes. At the end of each game, the players quarrelled for two or three minutes, then mournful silence was resumed, broken by the sharp clanks of the dominoes.
Therese played with an indifference13 that irritated Camille. She took Francois, the great tabby cat that Madame Raquin had brought from Vernon, on her lap, caressing14 it with one hand, whilst she placed her dominoes with the other. These Thursday evenings were a torture to her. Frequently she complained of being unwell, of a bad headache, so as not to play, and remain there doing nothing, and half asleep. An elbow on the table, her cheek resting on the palm of her hand, she watched the guests of her aunt and husband through a sort of yellow, smoky mist coming from the lamp. All these faces exasperated15 her. She looked from one to the other in profound disgust and secret irritation16.
Old Michaud exhibited a pasty countenance17, spotted18 with red blotches19, one of those death-like faces of an old man fallen into second childhood; Grivet had the narrow visage, the round eyes, the thin lips of an idiot. Olivier, whose bones were piercing his cheeks, gravely carried a stiff, insignificant20 head on a ridiculous body; as to Suzanne, the wife of Olivier, she was quite pale, with expressionless eyes, white lips, and a soft face. And Therese could not find one human being, not one living being among these grotesque21 and sinister22 creatures, with whom she was shut up; sometimes she had hallucinations, she imagined herself buried at the bottom of a tomb, in company with mechanical corpses23, who, when the strings24 were pulled, moved their heads, and agitated25 their legs and arms. The thick atmosphere of the dining-room stifled26 her; the shivering silence, the yellow gleams of the lamp penetrated27 her with vague terror, and inexpressible anguish28.
Below, to the door of the shop, they had fixed29 a bell whose sharp tinkle30 announced the entrance of customers. Therese had her ear on the alert; and when the bell rang, she rapidly ran downstairs quite relieved, delighted at being able to quit the dining-room. She slowly served the purchaser, and when she found herself alone, she sat down behind the counter where she remained as long as possible, dreading31 going upstairs again, and in the enjoyment32 of real pleasure at no longer having Grivet and Olivier before her eyes. The damp air of the shop calmed the burning fever of her hands, and she again fell into the customary grave reverie.
But she could not remain like this for long. Camille became angry at her absence. He failed to comprehend how anyone could prefer the shop to the dining-room on a Thursday evening, and he leant over the banister, to look for his wife.
"What's the matter?" he would shout. "What are you doing there? Why don't you come up? Grivet has the devil's own luck. He has just won again."
The young woman rose painfully, and ascending33 to the dining-room resumed her seat opposite old Michaud, whose pendent lips gave heartrending smiles. And, until eleven o'clock, she remained oppressed in her chair, watching Francois whom she held in her arms, so as to avoid seeing the cardboard dolls grimacing34 around her.
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1
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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arcade
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| n.拱廊；(一侧或两侧有商店的)通道 | |
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detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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7
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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8
regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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9
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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10
gatherings
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| 聚集( gathering的名词复数 )； 收集； 采集； 搜集 | |
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11
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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12
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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13
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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14
caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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15
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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16
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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17
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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18
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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19
blotches
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| n.（皮肤上的）红斑，疹块( blotch的名词复数 )；大滴 [大片]（墨水或颜色的）污渍 | |
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insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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23
corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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24
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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27
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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28
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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29
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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30
tinkle
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| vi.叮当作响；n.叮当声 | |
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31
dreading
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| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
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32
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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33
ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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34
grimacing
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| v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的现在分词 ) | |
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