"Dear Anna—my dear love," he said.
A faint colour came to her cheeks.
"What is it? Tell me, Anna. Dear one, dear one!"
"Don't speak to me like that," she said.
"Do I offend you? I can't think that I offend you—I who feel for you the deepest tenderness, the most absolute devotion."
He took her hands.
"It is dark here," she said.
"The day was so sad, the daylight was so melancholy. I have waited for you so many hours, Anna."
"I have come, you see."