Halla. It is so hard. (Bursts into sobs.)
Kari (kneeling). But, dearest Halla! Are you ill?
Halla (warding him off). Let me alone.
Kari (rises slowly). You were always so strong. I thought nothing could make you lose heart.
Halla (looks up. She has stopped crying; her voice is calm and cold). You don't love me any more. You have never loved me.
Kari. Is that what you are crying for?
Halla. Before when you wanted to leave me, I besought you by all the memories I thought were dear to you. That did not touch you. I humbled myself so low that I would have thanked you just for a little pity,—that might have been an afterglow of your love, but you had no pity. You stayed only because you were anxious about your own soul.
Kari. I stayed also for your sake.
Halla. You know better. You would rather die than have your God find you guilty of an evil deed. You counted the saving of your soul higher than your life, but I have no God, and I have never been able to tell my soul from my love. If you had loved me, you would have understood that I was pleading for my soul. You would have heard it in my voice, but you did not hear it.
Kari. You forget that it was to save our lives I wanted to go.