Thérèse had no idea where Julien's body was. She didn't dare think about it, because chances are, it was a completely different location to his head, and the thought made her shudder. All those times she'd kissed along the smooth, warm skin of his neck, so flushed and alive under her lips... the thought of it, clean in two, cold and decomposing, it made her gag. And she had thrown up, several times, at the thought, in the first week or so. Oh, her poor Julien. She'd taken him so for granted.
As she was led out to the carriage, she felt herself welling up again and she sighed heavily, irritated with herself at her own fluctuating emotions. One minute she was fine, the next, she was thinking back to her husband and getting upset. She reached out once she was helped inside the carriage, scatching up her rosary beads and holding them into her chest, out of comfort more than out of prayer.