"Kyllikki, Kyllikki, if you only knew!" he cried sorrowfully, and took her hands in his. Then a sudden coldness came over him once more.
"And if I were to dare," he said, "there is one other besides you and me."
"Are you afraid of him?" she asked sharply.
"No. But if he turned me from his door in scorn…."
"If the thought of that counts for so much," she said, with emphasis, "then it were better not to ask. For, after—whom would you love more, do you think; yourself, or the one you think you love?"
He winced under her glance.
"If it were for your sake I feared?" he asked, with some feeling.
"No need of that—as long as I know you are sure in your own mind. And if you were sure—you need have no fear for me."
He looked at her in surprise and admiration.
"You are a strange girl, Kyllikki," he said at last. "I am only just beginning to understand you. You are not as I hoped you would be—but you are something more. I know what it must have cost you to say so much. I shall not forget."