I had by now grasped the meaning of her words, and felt greatly moved.
"I understand you, but you need not be afraid.... I am no flirt."
"Hush," she replied in that soft, soothing voice that mothers use when quieting their babies; "I know that; but don't you see that it is hardly ever the flirt, but always the nice decent girl, who is taken in?"
"No, no," I answered blushingly; "I am sure that nothing will happen to me."
After these words my friend held me a little away from her, and gazed into my eyes long and earnestly.
"No, I don't think that anything will happen to you." Then she opened her little hand-bag and took out an envelope, which she pressed into my hands very hurriedly as if she was doing something wrong.
"There," she said, "I have brought it along after all, in case you wanted to go very much." After that she left me quickly, as if afraid that she might regret what she had done. Then I smoothed out the envelope and read the few words:
"Miklosch Sandor, Registry Office, Buda-Pesth."
I called the children together, and went home as if I was in a dream.