Louise kissed his hand. "Tell me; you must know."
"But is it possible that still interests you?"
"Oh, no! My life depends on it, that's all. You are cruel and bad; but still I can speak to you—for months now, I haven't had a soul to speak to. Be kind to me this once, Heinz. I CAN'T go on living without him. I haven't lived since he left me—not an hour!—Oh, you're my last hope!"
"You'll have plenty of hopes in your life yet."
"In those old days, you hated me, too. But don't bear malice now. There's nothing I won't do for you, if you tell me. I'll never speak to—never even think of you again."
"I'm not so long-suffering."
"Then you won't tell me?"
"I didn't say that."
She crushed his hand between hers. "Here's the chance you asked for—to save your friend! Oh, won't you understand?"
An inward satisfaction, of which only he himself knew the cause, warmed Krafft through at seeing her prostrate before him. But as he continued to look at her, a thought crossed his mind, and quickly resolved, he laid his cigarette on the table, and put his hands, first on her head, amid the tempting confusion of her hair, which met them like a thick stuff pleasant to the touch, and from there to her shoulders, inclining her towards him. She looked up, and though her eyes were full of tears, her white face was alight in an instant with hope again, as he said: "Would you do something else for me if I told you?"