Lorand took the letter from him and told him to take the cloak up to the guest's room.
He himself hastened to his own room.
As he passed through the saloon, Gyáli met him, coming from Czipra's room. The dandy's face was peculiarly flurried.
"My dear friend," he said to Lorand, "that gypsy girl of yours is a regular female panther, and you have trained her well, I can tell you.—Where is there a looking-glass?"
"Yes she is," replied Lorand. He scarcely knew why he said it: he heard, but only unconsciously.
Only that letter! Melanie's letter!
He was in such a hurry to reach his room with it. Once there and alone, he shut the door, kissed the fine rose-colored note, and its azure-blue letters, the red seal upon it; and clasped it to his breast, as if he would find out from his heart what was in it.
Well, and what could be in it?
Lorand put the letter down before him and laid his fist heavily upon it.
"Must I know what is in that letter?