"What is it?"
"You mustn't refuse ... I would ask you...."
"Is it the song?"
"No ... Eli, I wish so much...." He heard her breathing fast and deeply ... "I wish so much ... to hold one of your hands."
She did not answer; he listened intently—drew nearer, and clasped a warm little hand which lay on the coverlet.
Then steps were heard coming up-stairs; they came nearer and nearer; the door was opened; and Arne unclasped his hand. It was the mother, who came in with a light. "I think you're sitting too long in the dark," she said, putting the candlestick on the table. But neither Eli nor Arne could bear the light; she turned her face to the pillow, and he shaded his eyes with his hand. "Well, it pains a little at first, but it soon passes off," said the mother.
Arne looked on the floor for something which he had not dropped, and then went down-stairs.
The next day, he heard that Eli intended to come down in the afternoon. He put his tools together, and said good-bye. When she came down he had gone.