"It's like a hand on my heart, hurting it almost unbearably when I question doing anything he wanted. It has always been so with me ever since I was a baby. I never could bear to go against his wishes. And now that he's gone—why, I must keep my word. I couldn't meet him in the Hereafter if I didn't keep that last sacred promise to him. I couldn't say my prayers at night. I couldn't speak his name in them. Oom Peter trusted me. He depended on me. He did everything for me. I must do this for him."
"No, no!" exclaimed the Dead Man. "You are wrong. Tell her so, James!"
"I wanted you to know this, James," finished Kathrien, "because—because——"
A gush of tears blotted out Hartmann's tense, wretched face and choked her hesitating utterance.
"Have you told Frederik that you don't love him?" asked Hartmann, forcing himself to resist the yearning to gather her into his arms and kiss away her tears. "Does he know?"
She nodded, her face buried in her hands.
"And Frederik is willing to take you like that? On those terms?"
Another dumb nod of the pretty, fluffy little head, with its face still convulsed and hidden.
"The yellow dog!" burst forth Hartmann.
"You flatter him," sadly assented Peter Grimm.