Gyuri began to understand what had taken place.
"Good heavens! You listened to our conversation!"
"Yes, I know all!" said Veronica, blushing slightly. "It is no good your denying it."
"I don't wish to deny anything. But listen to me, please."
They walked quietly through the meadow, Gyuri talking, the girl listening, while the thousands of insects which peopled the fields flew away before their feet. Gyuri related the story of his life, and of his father's, of the supposed inheritance, of his search for it, and how he had gathered the threads together till they led him to Bábaszék. The girl listened to him, first with reproach in her eyes, then as judge, trying to find out the truth, and as the story began to interest her more and more, she became quite excited. Now she was neither plaintiff nor judge, only an interested listener, surprised that the threads led nearer and nearer to herself. Now Gyuri is speaking of Mrs. Müncz's son, now Móricz is telling his story, which shows that the umbrella must be in Glogova. Then the forester's wife tells the tale of St. Peter's bringing the umbrella to the orphan child. A few more words and the story was complete.
Veronica knew all, and her eyes were swimming in tears.
"Oh, dear, how dreadful! Mrs. Adamecz burned the handle!"
"God bless her for it!" said Gyuri brightly, seeing the girl's depression, "for now at least I can prove to you that I love you for yourself alone."
Veronica had taken off the small red shawl and was swinging it in her hand. Suddenly she caught hold of Gyuri's arm, and smiled at him through her tears.
"Do you really mean that you still want to marry me?"