"Piet, I—I want you to—forgive me; not just for this, but for—a thousand things. Piet, I—I didn't know you really loved me."
"I have always loved you, Anne," he said, in his deep, slow voice.
"And you—forgive me," she said faintly.
"I have forgiven you," he answered gravely.
She made a slight, shy movement, and he took his hand from her head. But in an instant impulsively she caught at it, drawing it down against her burning face.
"And you are not angry with me any more?" she murmured.
"No," he said again.
She was silent for a space, not moving, still tightly holding his hand.
He could not see her face, nor did he seek to do so. Perhaps he feared to scare away her new-found courage.
At length, in a very small voice, she broke the silence.