"But you can't know, Helga--you can't imagine--if you had the least idea of what I've gone through to live--merely to live----"
Helga looked around the room again and she said, "Can't I see? Haven't I got eyes? But if you were to tell me that nobody has had any use for you in the meanest work that is ever done by the commonest men, I should still say what I said to Finsen."
Oscar's throat was hurting him. The thought of Helga's faith and championship broke down his self-control. He never allowed himself to think there could be any selfish ground for it.
"What do you wish me to do, Helga?" he asked.
"To meet me in Finsen's office at eleven o'clock to-morrow morning."
"But I vowed I could never set foot in the place again."
"You didn't know then that I should ask you. And I do ask you, Oscar."
He remembered the promise he had given to his father; he reflected on the danger of reopening a page of his life which he had crossed out and turned down as for ever; he thought of Finsen and his interest in Helga and the hold he would have of her through her hopes and ambitions; and his will was like a broken withe, for the controlling destiny of his life was leading him on.
"You will be there, will you not?" she whispered, and Oscar answered:
"Yes."