He was silent for a moment. "Why not," he said at last, "if it is something that could only add needlessly to the other's burden?"
"Then more than ever," answered Kyllikki warmly.
She hurried into the next room and returned with a coverlet.
"You are tired out, Olof—lie down and rest." With tender firmness she forced him to lie down, and spread it over him.
"And now tell me all about it—it's no good trying to put it off with me. You know what I am." She sat down beside him and stroked his forehead tenderly.
Olof was silent for a moment. Then he decided. He would tell her all.
"Yes—I know you," he said softly, taking her hand in his.
* * * * *
It was growing dark when they sat up. Both were pale and shaken with emotion, but they looked at each other with a new light in their eyes, two human souls drawn closer together by hardship and sorrow.
"Stay where you are and rest a little, while I get the supper," said Kyllikki, as Olof would have risen. "And to-morrow—we can begin the new day," she added.