“Do you remember ‘Peer Gynt’?” asked he. “That was the bush.”
I looked at the laurel, and then at him again.
“Why, yes,” said I; “that was the bush.”
His dear eyes were gazing into mine; I could not look away again. There came a tremor over all my body; my love for him swept over me in throbbing waves of pain; I fell towards him, stifling a cry against his breast. And he, wrapping his arms about me, strained me to him with great force.
“Emilia!” he cried, “I love you very much; I have never told you how much I love you!”
I knew it to be the last cry of his conscience, but, as I lay there listening to the beat of his heart, there fled from me what little yet remained of my conquered spirit’s strength and noble purpose. Only the woman in me cried aloud, “I cannot!”
I tried to speak, but the words came almost as a sob. Quickly I threw my arms about his neck and, bending his face towards me, kissed him of my own accord as he smiled; then, breaking from him, would have run homewards.
But he held me by the hand.
“When shall I come to-morrow?” asked he, hoarsely.
“Not at all,” said I. “Go, Gabriel! God help me; I love you too much!”