"No!"
"It was in this room—I met her for the first time."
He rose from the table, staggered to the sofa, and threw himself on his knees by the side of it. Burying his head in the cushions, he burst into tears like a child crying in his mother's lap.
Falander took his head in both his hands, and Rehnhjelm felt something hot and scalding dropping on his neck.
"Where's your philosophy now, old fellow? Out with it! I'm drowning! Give me a straw to clutch at!"
"Poor boy! poor old boy!"
"I must see her! I must ask her forgiveness! I love her in spite of it! In spite of it! Are you sure she isn't hurt? Oh! my God, that one can be so unhappy and yet not die!"
At three o'clock in the afternoon Rehnhjelm left for Stockholm. Falander slammed the carriage door behind him and turned the handle.