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Veronica spread out her hand on the table; it was not so very big after all, but fine and pink as a roseleaf. Gyuri took a match and began to measure it, and in doing so, accidentally touched her hand with his finger, upon which she hastily drew it away and blushed furiously. "It is very hot," she said, putting up her hand to her hot face, as though she had drawn it away for that purpose.
Gyuri told the Jew what he wanted; that he was interested in his father's favorite umbrella, and would buy it if he could find it. Did Móricz know anything about it? "Yes, I do," was the disappointed answer, for now he knew what a trifle it was, he saw the price fall in proportion. "I will give you fifty florins for any information that will lead to its discovery."
Poor Gyuri fell back a few steps. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "why did you do it? Why?" "Do not try to deceive me any longer, Mr. Wibra. You should not put a ring on my finger, but on the umbrella, for that is what you really want to marry." Gyuri began to understand what had taken place. "Good heavens! You listened to our conversation!" "Yes, I know all!" said Veronica, blushing slightly.
The man at the wall moved when he heard this terrible accusation. But the detective took up his revolver again. "Be quiet there!" he called, with a look such as he might have thrown at an angry dog. Gyuri stood quiet again but his eyes shot flames and great drops stood out on his forehead. "Now go on, friend Cardillac," continued the detective. "We were talking about Red Betty." "I strangled her.
Gyuri began impatiently to tap with his foot on the floor. "Will you tell me where it is?" "It is there under the table." "What, the handle?" "No, the child." Yes, there was Matykó, sitting on a basin turned upside down, a fat-faced, blue-eyed Slovak child, playing with some dried beans, its face still dirty from the pancakes it had eaten. "Bother you, woman! Are you deaf?" burst out the lawyer.
"Extremely convenient," thought Muller to himself. It was a large room, comfortably furnished and filled now with the red glow of the setting sun. A turning-lathe stood by the window and an elderly man was at work at it. Gyuri called to him and he turned and rose when he saw a stranger. Lajos Varna was a tall, loose-jointed man with sallow skin and tired eyes.
Well, now listen to me, Gyuri, for I have something to tell you." "I am listening." But his thoughts were elsewhere, as he drummed on the table with his fingers. You know him?" Yes, Gyuri remembered him. "I told him to give me two rings, and he asked whom they were for. So I said they were going a good distance. Then he asked where to, and I told him to Glogova.
The only thing he would take himself was mineral water. Toward afternoon the cramp was much worse, and he began to spit blood. Anna was frightened, and began to cry, and ask if he would not have a doctor or a priest. Gregorics shook his head. "No, no, I am quite ready to die, everything is in order. I am only waiting for Gyuri. What time is it?" The church clock just then struck twelve.
What fortune? But this much she had begun to understand, that she was only the means to some end. "Well, well," began Sztolarik again after a short pause, "the affair seems to be pretty entangled at present, but there is still worse to come." "What more can come?" asked Gyuri in an uncertain voice. "Don't do anything at present. Let us find out first of all whether you love the girl."
My parishioners had it made last summer as a surprise for me while I was away at the baths. The old handle had been broken off, and it was almost impossible to make use of the umbrella. I expect it was Klincsok's idea, for he started the collection. There are still plenty of good Christian hearts to be found." Then he turned to Gyuri. "I will introduce you to Klincsok, he is a very worthy man."
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