"To carry him all the way?" he asked, puzzled.
"Father has not moved for two years," she said simply; "he was stricken with paralysis, you know."
"Ah, yes! Klara told me something about that."
"So in order to give me the pleasure of having father near me at my farewell feast, Móritz and Jenö and Imre and Jankó are going to fasten long poles to his chair and carry him to the schoolroom and back. Isn't it good of them? And I think they mean to do the same thing to-morrow and carry him to church. We are going to put his bunda round his shoulders. He has not worn his bunda for two years. . . . It was yesterday, when I took it out in order to mend it, that I found the letter which you wrote me from Fiume. It had slipped between the pocket and the lining and . . ."
"And are you happy, Elsa?" he broke in abruptly.
She hesitated almost imperceptibly for a moment, then she said quietly:
"Yes, Andor. I am fairly happy."
"Béla?" he asked again. "Is he fond of you?"
"I think so."
"You are not sure?"