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"As you said your doors cannot be locked, I shall stay here till morning lest some one break in upon you." Czipra slunk back to her room. She met Melanie, who, candle in hand, hastened towards her, and asked what was the matter. "Nothing, nothing. I heard a noise outside. It frightened me." No need of simulation, for she trembled in every limb. "You afraid?" said Melanie, surprised.
It was certainly very well he did not send his mother that letter, in which he had written of Czipra and requested his mother's blessing: well that he had not wounded the dearest mother's heart with those final words "but if you curse her whom I love " Curse her whom he loves! Why should they do so? That letter brought a holiday to the house.
"Why haven't you brought more with you?" Melanie's face for a moment flushed a full rose then she answered this indiscreet inquiry calmly: "Simply, my dear Czipra, because the rest were seized by our creditors, who claimed them as a debt." "Couldn't you have anticipated them?" Melanie clasped her hands on her breast, and said with the astonishment of moral aversion: "How?
Czipra was six years her senior, and she made a good protectress; that continuous woman's chattering, of which Topándy had said, that, if one hour passed without its being heard, he should think he had come to the land of the dead: a man grew to like that after awhile.
Women are best off when they know nothing." Then he laughed in her face. Czipra ran weeping out of the laboratory. Lorand pitied the poor creature, who, dressed in silks and finery, did not know her letters, and who was incapable of raising her voice to God.
Six days had passed since that ruling rival had left the house: Lorand was not sad, did not pine after her, he was good-humored, witty, and playful; he enjoyed himself. Czipra believed their stars were once more approaching each other.
The gypsy woman drew nearer to Czipra. "When at midnight the nightingale sings below your window, take notice on what branch it sat. Go out bare-footed, break down that branch, set it in a flower-pot, put it in your window, sprinkle it with water from your mouth: before the branch droops, your lover will return, and will never leave you again."
All the gay fellows of the neighborhood are invited to it. You must come with us too." "Ha! Your regeneration carnival!" cried Gyáli, in a voice of ecstasy, the while gazing at Czipra apologetically. "Albeit other magnets draw me hither with overpowering force I must go there without fail. I must deliver a 'toast' at your 'regeneration' festival, Lorand." "My brother Desi will also be there."
My parents, were simple camp-folk; my name is Czipra. I am a domestic servant here, whom the master has dressed up, out of caprice, in silks and laces, and he makes the servants call me 'madame, on which account they subsequently mock me, of course, only behind my back, for if they did it to my face I should strike them; but don't you laugh at me behind my back.
There is One who takes thought for two-legged featherless animals too. If I had known, 'Knock and it shall be opened unto you: I should long have knocked at the door and cried, 'O Lord, let me in!" Topándy would not allow himself to be undressed and put to bed. "Draw my chair beside Czipra. Let me learn from her how a dead man must behave.
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