"Nevertheless, her immediate impulse was one of refusal.
"'It cannot be,' she said, and her bosom heaved spasmodically.
"I protested that it could and would be, but she shook her head.
"'You are very kind to me! God bless you!' she said. 'You have always been kind to me. But you do not love me.'
"I assured her I did, and in that moment I dare say I spoke the truth. For in that moment of her reluctance and diffidence to snatch at proffered joy, when the suggestion of rejection made her appear doubly precious, she seemed to me the most adorable creature in the world.
"But still she shook her head. 'No one can love me,' she said sadly.
"I took her hand in mute protestation, but she withdrew it gently.
"'I cannot be your wife,' she persisted.
"'Why not, Ingeborg?' I asked passionately.
"She hesitated, panting and colouring painfully, then—the words are echoing in my brain—she answered softly, 'Jeg kan ikke elske Dem' (I cannot love you).