"Stephania!"
"Tell me that you hate me."
"Stephania—why do you ask it?"
"To justify my own ends," she replied. Then she covered her face with her hands.
"Tell me all," she sobbed. "I must know all. Do you not feel how near we are? Are you indeed afraid to speak?"
She gazed at him with moist, glorious eyes.
Striding up and down before the woman, Otto vainly groped for words.
"Otto," she approached him gently, "do you believe in me?"
"Can you ask?"
"Wholly?"