Gervaise, feeling uneasy at some of his glances, barricaded herself in at night.

Then, after having sulked ever since the Sunday, he suddenly came on the Tuesday night about eleven o'clock and knocked at her room.

She would not open to him; but his voice was so gentle and so trembling that she ended by removing the chest of drawers she had pushed against the door.

When he entered, she thought he was ill; he looked so pale, his eyes were so red, and the veins on his face were all swollen.
And he stood there, stuttering and shaking his head.

No, no, he was not ill.