Living at first entirely alone, her intellect
became more and more affected by the recurring convulsive fits.
Subsequently her grandson Silvere Mouret lived with her, but after
his execution, of which she was a witness, she became quite insane. La
Fortune des Rougon.
She was always under restraint, and remained a living sore to the
family. The little property which belonged to her son Antoine Macquart
was close to the asylum where she was confined, and Pierre Rougon seemed
to have placed him there to look after her. Adelaide seldom spoke,
and for twelve years had never moved from her chair. La Conquete de
Plassans.
At 104 years old she was still living in the asylum at Les Tulettes.
She was little better than a skeleton, and in her long, thin face it
was only in the eyes that there was any sign of life. Immovable in her
chair, she remained from year to year like a spectre, calling up the
horrors of her family history. A sudden accident, the death of little
Charles Saccard from nasal hemorrhage, wakened in her sleeping brain
recollections of years before; she saw again the murder of Silvere,
killed by a pistol-shot, and she saw also her lover Macquart, the
smuggler, killed like a dog by the gendarmes.
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