“You said you wouldn't give me up!”
“You know what you are doing?”
She made a motion of assent.
“But you don't grasp what this means. Things to bear that you know nothing of—hunger perhaps! Think, even hunger! And your people won't forgive—you'll lose everything.”
She shook her head.
“I must choose—it's one thing or the other. I can't give you up! I should be afraid!”
“But, dear; how can you come with me? We can't be married here.”
“I am giving my life to you.”
“You are too good for me,” said Harz. “The life you're going into—may be dark, like that!” he pointed to the window.
A sound of footsteps broke the hush. They could see a figure on the path below. It stopped, seemed to consider, vanished. They heard the sounds of groping hands, of a creaking door, of uncertain feet on the stairs.