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Updated: May 22, 2025
He was wrapped from head to foot in a threadbare cloth coat, lined with shaggy fur, a fur-edged bonnet was on his head, and he carried a stout stick to which was attached a large bundle done up in a red cotton handkerchief. This now he slung over his shoulder. "Klara, my girl," he called. "Yes, father," came Klara's voice from the inner room.
No one felt this more keenly than Andor, whose heart had warmed out despite its pain at sight of all his friends, their national costumes, their music, their traditions all of which had been out of his life for so long. He felt that Klara's presence on this occasion was in itself an outrage upon Elsa, even without Béla's conspicuously unworthy conduct.
She had made pathetic efforts to remain cheerful and not to listen to Klara's strident voice and loud, continuous laughter. Béla had practically confined his attentions to the Jewess, and Elsa tried not to show how ashamed she was at being so openly neglected on this occasion.
Leopold made his way to Klara's side; his thin lips were tightly pressed together, and he had buried his hands in the pockets of his ill-fitting trousers. "If that accursed aristocrat comes hanging round here much more, Klara," he muttered between set teeth, "I'll kill him one of these days." "What a fool you are, Leopold!" she said. "Why, yesterday it was Erös Béla you objected to."
And as she went out of the door, she looked back at the glaring, sunny room as if already it were far behind her, as if already she felt the house-mother's kiss, and heard the 'cello, and saw Klara's tiny daughter standing by the door, throwing kisses, calling, "Da ist sie, ja!"
These footsteps which seemed like the footsteps of ghosts, so intangible were they were now so near that to Klara's supersensitive mind they appeared to be less than ten paces from the back door.
All around leaves and branches rustled with a soft, swishing sound, like the whisperings of ghosts, and from the plains beyond came that long-drawn-out murmur of myriads of plume-crowned maize as they bent in recurring unison to the caress of the wind. Klara's eyes peered anxiously round.
Béla swore a loud and angry oath, and Andor, who was closely watching each player in this moving little drama, saw that Klara's olive skin had taken on a greenish hue, and that her gloved hands fastened almost convulsively over the handle of her parasol. "But I tell you .
Seeing Béla and Andor there, he asked if anything was wanted. "No, no," said Béla impatiently, "nothing more to-night. Andor and I are going directly." The narrow hatchet-face once more disappeared behind the door. Klara's voice was heard to ask: "Who is in the tap-room, father?"
He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him.
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