“It is pleasant for you here?”
“Pleasant. But for you?”
Basia nodded her bright head. “Oh, Michael, so pleasant! ai, ai! Did you not hear what that man was singing?”
Here she repeated the last words of the little song,—
“Let me die at the fence, then, of hunger,
If only near thee.”
A moment of silence followed, which the little knight interrupted,—
“But listen, Basia.”
“What, Michael?”
“To tell the truth, we are wonderfully happy with each other; and I think if one of us were to fall, the other would grieve beyond measure.”