“Dost thou love me?” asked Pan Ignas.
“Thou knowest.”
“Say yes.”
“Yes.”
Then he pressed her arm more, and said with a voice changed through rising emotion,—
“Thou hast no idea, simply, how much happiness is in thee. I give thee my word; thou hast no idea. Thou knowest not how I love thee. I would give my life for thee. I would give the world for one hair of thine. Thou art my world, my life, my all. I should die without thee.”
“Let us sit down,” whispered Lineta; “I am so wearied.”
They sat down, resting against each other, hidden in the dark. A moment of silence followed.
“What is the matter? Thou art trembling all over,” whispered Lineta.
But she too, whether stirred by remembrances, or borne on by his feeling, or by nearness, began to breathe hurriedly, and, closing her eyes, was the first to put her lips forward toward his.