“If you won’t, I shall drag you down the stairs until you lie at his feet. I swear I shall do it, I swear I shall!” he hissed syllable by syllable into her face.
She stepped back in alarm.
“Henk!” she cried, shocked that he durst say such a thing to her.
“Are you going?”
“Yes—yes, I will go, but—Henk! Oh, don’t, don’t speak like that to me! Why should you? Great heavens! am I not unhappy enough already?”
“That is your own fault, your own doing, but that is no reason why you should make another unhappy too, especially Erlevoort.”
“Yes, yes, you are right,” she sobbed, quite broken at last. “I will go, but come with me, come with me, Henk.”
He supported her as he took her from the room and led her down the stairs. But when she entered the drawing-room she felt frightened. There was no one there but Otto, who was seated [[220]]on the sofa, leaning his head in his hands. For a moment she stood still, undecided what to do, but Henk looked at her, and his glance and also the sight of Otto’s silent despair caused her to hesitate no longer. She fell on her knees before him and wanted to say something, but she was unable to utter a single word for violent sobbing, which at length seemed to melt away in a copious stream of tears. She laid her throbbing, glowing head on his knees, and took his hand, and sobbed and sobbed until her heart nearly broke. He did not speak either, and looked her deep in the eyes.
At last, with a great effort, she could just say, while Henk remained standing like her judge behind her—
“Forgive me, Otto, forgive me, forgive me.”