His wife could not be with that man.

It was monstrous and impossible.

Nevertheless, he stayed where he was and was gradually overcome by a species of torpor which merged into sheer feebleness while he waited long, and the fixity of his gaze induced hallucinations.
A shower was falling.

Two policemen were approaching, and he was forced to leave the doorway where he had taken shelter.

When these were lost to view in the Rue de Provence he returned to his post, wet and shivering.
The luminous streak still traversed the window, and this time he was going away for good when a shadow crossed it.