Now he interrupted the flood
of words his mother poured forth amid her sobs, and said softly, yet
firmly:
"Panna is not entirely to blame; I was persistent, I was tipsy, she was
right to defend herself. True, she need not have been so savage, but
how can she help her blood? I ought to have taken care of myself; I
ought to have known whom I was chaffing." Then, turning to the
visitor, he added: "If it will soothe Panna to know that I am not angry
with her, send your daughter here, and I will tell her so myself."
Fifteen minutes later Panna was in the Molnars' hut. She entreated the
old mother to attend to her household affairs and not trouble herself
about the sick man; that should be her care. She arranged the
wretched bed, cleared up the room, brought Pista water to drink when he
felt thirsty, and when everything was done, sat silently beside the
bed. Pista quietly submitted to everything, and only gazed strangely
with his one eye at the beautiful girl.
In the course of the morning the physician came and renewed the
bandages. Panna stood by his side and kept all sorts of things ready,
but she did not have courage to look at the wounds.
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