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realize now that if anything happened to you I don’t know what
I should do. I dare not think of it. There is nothing in the
world I would not gladly do for you, because you are very dear
to me."
"Oh, Gunnar, don’t!" She stopped and looked at him
almost in fear.
"I know quite well that you are not in love with me, but
that need not prevent your marrying me. You say you are
tired of everything, and have nothing to live for, so why not
try it?" His voice grew more earnest, and he exclaimed:
"For I know that one day you too will be fond of me! You
could not help it, seeing how fond I am of you."
"You know that I have always been fond of you," she said
seriously, "but it is not a feeling you would be satisfied with
in the long run. A strong and entire devotion is more than I
can give."
"Not at all. We can all give that. Was I not convinced
that I should never experience anything but — little love
affairs? In fact, I did not believe anything else existed." His
voice sank. "You are the first woman I love."
She stood still and silent.
"I have never uttered that word to any woman before — I
had a kind of reverence for it, but then I have never loved a
woman before. I was always in love with something particular
about them — the corners of Cesca’s mouth, for instance, when
she smiled; her unconscious coquetry. There was always one
thing or other that took my fancy and inspired me to invent
adventures about them — adventures I wanted to experience.
I fell in love with one woman because the first time I saw her
she wore a beautiful red silk dress, almost black in the folds,
like the darkest of roses. I thought of her always in that dress.
And with you that time in Viterbo — you were so sweet, so
gentle and reserved, and there was a glint in your eyes when the
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