When they seated themselves in their carriage, they seemed to be greater strangers than before. — Emile Zola

In reality, one single thought tormented them: they were irritated at their crime, and in despair at having for ever troubled their lives.

Sometimes, forcing themselves to hope, they sought to resume the burning dreams of other days, and were quite astonished to find they had no imagination.

It was like a lightning flash of passion, swift and blinding in a leaden sky.