When the countess emerged from her room, she seemed to be in a very good
humour. She accompanied Szilard all the way to the drawing-room door,
pressed his hand, and when they parted at the door exchanged a
significant look with him, at the same time touching her lips with her
index finger--a very confidential piece of pantomime as any connoisseur
will tell you.
And all this Hatszegi saw reflected in the mirror, opposite to which he
sat.
As soon as the countess sat down, her companion, as if at a given
signal, arose and left the room.
Scarcely were they alone when the baron petulantly remarked: "It appears
as if your ladyship and our young friend rejoiced in very intimate
mutual relations."
"Oh, very intimate. I assure you he is a most worthy, honourable man."
"So I observe."
"I am quite in earnest. I find him quite a treasure, and he is
extraordinarily attached to me."
"Very nice of him, I'm sure."
"Oh, you gentlemen, what mockers you are. There are men, I can tell you,
who for all that they are poor are more capable of self-sacrifice than
the haughtiest nabobs who make such a fuss over us till we are in
trouble and then snatch up their hats and fly from the house. You also
belong to that class, my lord!"
"I don't understand you."
"Suppose, for instance, I were to say to you: my dear friend, I have
fallen into quite an awkward predicament and to-day or to-morrow they
will distrain upon me for 40,000 florins.
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