He had come to her at last, then.

Now, at this moment, she lost all remembrance of her need of forgiving him.
Forgiving him! What could there be to be forgiven to one who could make her so happy as she felt herself to be at this moment?
She opened the door of the room just as he had raised his hand to knock, and threw herself into his arms.

"Anton, dearest, you have come at last.

But I am not going to scold.

I am so glad that you have come, my own one!" While she was yet speaking, he brought her back into the room, supporting her with his arm round her waist; and when the door was closed he stood over her still holding her up, and looking down into her face, which was turned up to his.