humor, "why do you let the key remain in the door of that bureau where
you keep so many valuables?"

And again Gudule regarded him with those unfathomable eyes.

"There, you're ... looking at me again!" he exclaimed with sudden
vehemence.

"They're safe enough in the cupboard," Gudule said, smiling, "why should
I lock it?"

"Gudule, do you mean to say ..." he cried, raising his hand as for a
blow. Then he fell back in his chair, and his frame was shaken with
sobs.

"Gudule, my heart's love," he cried, "I am not worthy that your eyes
should rest on me. Everywhere, wherever I go, they look at me, those
eyes ... and that is my ruin. If business is bad. your eyes ask me, 'Why
did you mix yourself up with these things, without a thought of wife or
children?'... Then I feel as if some evil spirit possessed me and
tortured my soul. Oh, why can't you look at me again as you did when you
were my bride?--then you looked so happy, so lovely! At other times I
think: 'I shall yet grasp fortune with both hands ... and then I can
face my Gudule's eyes again.' But now, now ... oh, don't look at me,
Gudule!"

There spoke the self-reproaching voice, which sometimes burst forth
unbidden from a suffering soul.

As for Gudule, she already knew how to appreciate this cry of her