"If it would not stay in my hair, and fell into your lap, you may as well keep it."
Would it not have stayed in her hair? Was it quite an accident? thought Gyuri, as he smelt the flower. What a pleasant odor it had! Was it from her hair?
Now they were driving beside the Brána, the far-famed Brána, which quite shuts this part of the country off from the rest of the world, like an immense gate. That is why it is called the Brána, or gate. It is no common mountain, but an aristocrat among its kind, and in fine weather it wears a hat, for its summit is hidden in clouds. Several small streams make their way down its side, flowing together at the foot, and making one broad stream.
"That is the Bjela Voda," explained Veronica to Madame Krisbay, "we are not far from home now."
They still had to drive through one wood, and then the little white cottages of Glogova would be before them. But this was the worst bit of the road, crooked and curved, full of ruts and rocks, and so narrow that there was hardly room for the carriage to pass.
János turned round and said with a shake of his head:
"The king himself would grow crooked here!"
"Take care, János, that you don't upset us!"
János got down from his seat, and fastened one of the wheels firmly, for there was no brake to the carriage; and now the horses had to move at a funeral pace, and sometimes the road was so narrow between two hills that they could see nothing but the blue sky above them.
"This place is only fit for birds," muttered János.