"Tell me, dear," he plead.
She looked up at him piteously. "Why do you insist? Don't you see that you are hurting me?"
"You have said too much or too little," he answered. "In justice to me and to yourself you should take me into your confidence."
She sat up, a dull flush spreading over her face. "Since you will know then, it is this: I am going to have a child." She sank back, covering her face with her hands.
"Ragna!" his cry rang out in the stillness. She heard him sink to a chair, pushing it back as he did so with a grating noise on the tiled floor. Presently he rose and came to her side, she remained motionless; he drew her resisting hands down from her face.
"Ragna, is this true?"
She nodded, not daring to look at him. He knelt beside her.
"Ragna, will you be my wife? Have I proved that I love you, now?"
She gazed at him in amazement.
"What! you still—?"