For a certain time, silence followed. Ladislaus frowned and clinched his teeth; after which, drawing a deep breath, he said, as if with a certain rage:
"This was done for me by those scoundrels."
"Oh, if they only fell into my hands," she replied through her set teeth.
Such a fathomless hatred glistened in her eyes and her entire countenance assumed such an expression of cruelty, that it might serve as a model for a Gorgon face. Ladislaus was so astonished at this sight that he forgot about his pain.
Again silence ensued. The maid recollected herself after a while, but her cheeks grew so pale that the dark down above her lips became more marked:
She then asked: "What can I do to relieve you?"
Her voice now rang with such cordial solicitude that Ladislaus smiled and answered:
"Nothing, unless it be to commiserate with me."
And in a moment she was transported with spasmodic grief; she flung her face at his feet, and, embracing them with her arms, began to kiss them through the quilt. Her raven-like head and bent body shook from sobbing.
"Why little lady! Panna Pauly!" cried Ladislaus.