“No; you do not.”
He put her gently away from him, and looked at her with a somber sternness. “You do not love me,” he continued. “If you did, you would put me first; you would say, ‘I will be your wife.’ You would delight to make me happy–I, who have never been happy but in sharing your joys and sorrows.”
“O David, I do love you!”
“Then be my wife.”
“I cannot! I cannot!”
“Then you love me as light, vain women love: to make slaves of men, and bring them back and back to be hurt. It is not to be so with me. No, indeed! Farewell, Nanna.”
His voice failed him. He turned toward the door, and for a moment Nanna could not realize that he was actually bidding her a final farewell. When she did she flew to his side, and arrested his hand as he was opening the door.
“Come back! Come back, David!” she entreated. “You are all wrong; you are very cruel to me. If you leave me it will break my heart! It will be the last blow, David. It is the very truth.”
He hesitated enough to make Nanna weep with passionate distress, and this emotion he was not able to bear. He took her within his arm again, led her to a chair, and sat down at her side, and as he kissed the tears from her face said:
“If indeed you do love me, Nanna–”