Nevertheless the worthy son of the peasant remained uneasy; Mouret's
indifference seemed to him to conceal some trap.
Adelaide now remained to be disposed of. Nothing in the world would have
induced Pierre to live with her any longer. She was compromising him;
it was with her that he would have liked to make a start. But he found
himself between two very embarrassing alternatives: to keep her, and
thus, in a measure, share her disgrace, and bind a fetter to his feet
which would arrest him in his ambitious flight; or to turn her out, with
the certainty of being pointed at as a bad son, which would have robbed
him of the reputation for good nature which he desired. Knowing that he
would be in want of everybody, he desired to secure an untarnished
name throughout Plassans. There was but one method to adopt, namely, to
induce Adelaide to leave of her own accord. Pierre neglected nothing to
accomplish this end. He considered his mother's misconduct a sufficient
excuse for his own hard-heartedness. He punished her as one would
chastise a child. The tables were turned. The poor woman cowered under
the stick which, figuratively, was constantly held over her. She was
scarcely forty-two years old, and already had the stammerings of
terror, and vague, pitiful looks of an old woman in her dotage. Her son
continued to stab her with his piercing glances, hoping that she would
run away when her courage was exhausted. The unfortunate woman suffered
terribly from shame, restrained desire and enforced cowardice, receiving
the blows dealt her with passive resignation, and nevertheless returning
to Macquart with the determination to die on the spot rather than
submit.
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