"Klener has a tailor working for him, a certain Kupek, who used to work at one of the court tailors' in Vienna, and he said to me: 'Don't grudge the money, Mr. Mokry, for this is such a durable stuff that your own skin will wear out first.' Please feel it."
"It's as soft as silk. Wladin, my dear, I think you had better change places with me. You are in a draught there each time the door is opened. What are you making such a face for? You surely don't mean to argue with me? Over you come now!"
The beloved martyr changed places with his wife, and now Mrs. Szliminszky was on the opposite side of the table, next to Wibra; but he was entirely taken up with Veronica, who was chattering to her heart's content. The clever young man, of whom it was said he would once be the first lawyer in Besztercebánya, was listening to the girl with as much attention as though a bishop were speaking, and would not for a moment have taken his eyes off her.
They spoke quietly, as though they were discussing very important questions, though they were in reality speaking of the most innocent things. What did Veronica do at home? She read a good deal, and took long walks. What did she read, and where did she walk? And Veronica gave the titles of some books. Gyuri had read them all too, and they began exchanging notes regarding some of them, such as "Elemér the Eagle," "Iván Berend," "Aranka Béldi." Gyuri considered Pál Béldi very stupid for not accepting the title of prince when it was offered him. Veronica thought it was better he had not done so, for if he had, the novel would never have been written.
Then Gyuri began to question her about Glogova. Was it very dull? Veronica looked at him, surprised. How could Glogova be dull? It was as though some ignorant person had asked if Paris were dull.
"Is there a wood there?"
"A beautiful one."
"Do you ever go there?"
"Of course."
"Are you not afraid?"