‘You mean that because your father did this deed, you are ashamed to marry me?’
‘More than ashamed—’
‘And you will go away and leave me for ever, for the sake of this idea alone?’
‘Ah, Hilda—you have not understood—’
‘I have understood all, because I love you, and now I know that you love me with all your heart—’
‘Oh, thank you, my beloved! God bless you for seeing the truth—’
‘Do not thank me—’
She caught her breath, then with a swift movement she was on her feet, standing beside him. The glassy stare was gone from her eyes, and they shone with a blue light like fire. Her strong white hands suddenly laid hold of his wrists and held him firmly.
‘Do not thank me, Greif—or thank me, if you will—as you please. I will not let you go.’
There was a power in her tone which struck him with amazement, a concentrated, unrelenting, almost furious energy that startled him. He had expected tears, protestations, laments; he had thought that she might faint away, that the sight of her sufferings would treble his own. But he had not expected the short sharp outburst of a passion as strong as his, or stronger, he had not foreseen or guessed that this simple girl, brought up so far from the world, would take him by the hands and hold him, and tell him that she would not let him go, with an accent of determination that might have staggered the strongest man.