"_I_ begrudge you a pleasure?" Gudule ventured to remark, as she raised
her swimming eyes to his face.

"Why do you look at me so tearfully?" he almost shouted.

Ascher loved his wife, and when he saw the effect which his rough words
had produced, he tenderly embraced her. "Am I not right, Gudule?" he
said, "after a man has been working and slaving the livelong week, don't
you think he looks forward with longing eyes for his dear children to
welcome him at his door?"

At that moment Gudule felt the long latent suspicion revive in her that
her husband was not speaking the truth. As if written in characters of
fire, the words of that letter now came back to her memory; she knew now
what was the fate that awaited her and her children.

Thenceforward, all the characteristic tokens of a gambler's life, all
the vicissitudes which attend his unholy calling, followed close upon
each other in grim succession. Most marked was the disturbance which his
mental equilibrium was undergoing. Fits of gloomy despondency were
succeeded, with alarming rapidity, by periods of tumultuous exaltation.
One moment it would seem as though Gudule and the children were to him
the living embodiment of all that was precious and lovable, whilst at
other times he would regard them with sullen indifference. It soon
became evident to Gudule that her husband's affairs were in a very bad
way, for her house-keeping allowance no longer came to her with its
wonted regularity. But what grieved and alarmed her most, was the fact
that Ascher was openly neglecting every one of his religious duties. To
return home late on Friday night, long after sunset had ushered in the
Sabbath, was now a common practice. Once even it happened, that with his