One thing there was which pleased him: when he lay listening to the beating of his heart⁠—his corporeal organ⁠—so plainly audible in the ordered silence of the rest period, throbbing loud and peremptorily, as it had done almost ever since he came, the sound no longer annoyed him. For now he need not feel that it so beat of its own accord, without sense or reason or any reference to his non-corporeal part. He could say, without stretching the truth, that such a connection now existed, or was easily induced: he was aware that he felt an emotion to correspond with the action of his heart. He needed only to think of Madame Chauchat⁠—and he did think of her⁠—and lo, he felt within himself the emotion proper to the heartbeats.