"No."
"No? Then let me tell you, that you may know henceforward. The first…?"
"I—I don't know."
"You know well enough. Bright eyes—that is the first."
He flinched involuntarily as under the lash. And now the strokes followed sharply one on another.
"A fine figure and curling hair … tears and empty promises … a thirst for beauty … false brotherhood … selfishness and the desire for conquest … dying voices of childhood … dreams and self-deceit…."
"Enough!"
"Not yet. There are little extras that you have not called to mind."
"Leave me in peace!" cried Olof almost threateningly.
"You could not leave yourself in peace. Look again—what more—what more?"