His arms loosed their hold of the girl, and almost unconsciously he thrust her a little away, staring out into the distance with a faint smile on his lips and deepest earnest in his eyes.
The girl looked at him wonderingly.
"What is it?" she asked anxiously, as if fearing to have hurt him. But he did not seem to hear, only stood looking out at nothing as before.
"Olof—what is it?" she asked again, in evident distress.
"Only—it was only my mother speaking to me all alone," he answered in a low voice.
"Oh!" The girl sighed deeply. "Now—was it just now she spoke?"
He nodded.
The girl glanced at him and hesitated. "Won't you—won't you tell me what she said?" she asked timidly.
"She told me it was wrong—a sinful wrong even to ask you…."
The girl gazed at him for a long time without speaking; the tenderness in her eyes grew to unutterable depths.