"Well, and when will Lorand return?" inquired Czipra eagerly.
"He must first return to his parents," answered Topándy.
(—"Thither indeed" thought Lorand, "to father and grandfather"—)
"But he will not remain there forever?"
At that both men laughed loudly. What kind of expression was that word "forever" in one's mouth? Is there a measure for time?
"What will you bring me when you return?" inquired the girl childishly.
Lorand was merciless enough to jest: he tore down a leaf which was round, like a small coin; placing that on the palm of her hand, he said:
"Something no greater than the circumference of this leaf."
Two understood that he meant "a ring," but what he meant was a "bullet" in the centre of his forehead.
How pitiless are the jests of a man ready for death.