"My best wishes," said Mr. Rafanidesz, turning to Mrs. Szliminszky, who blushed becomingly and told him not to talk nonsense.
But the young lawyer would not let her continue the conversation; he drew his chair nearer to hers, and said:
"Please go on."
"Well, the gray-haired man disappeared, no one knew how nor where, and those who saw him for a moment swore it was St. Peter."
"It was Müncz!"
"Did you speak?"
Gyuri bit his lip, and saw that he had spoken his thoughts aloud.
"Nothing, nothing; please go on."
"Well, St. Peter disappeared, and left the umbrella behind him."
"And does it still exist?"