The supply did not last long, but, when it was exhausted, Panna did not
go herself, sending in her place old Frau Molnar with a pleasant
greeting to the manager of the brewery. True, the latter frowned and
sneeringly asked why Her Highness did not appear in person, but he had
wisdom enough to give the ice for which she asked.
At the end of a week Pista had improved so much that the ice-bandages
were no longer needed, and he did not require constant nursing. Panna
who, hitherto, had come early in the morning and returned late in the
evening, now appeared only twice a day to enquire for the sick man and
bring him some refreshment, if it were only a handful of blackberries.
Of course, during all this time, there was no end of putting heads
together and whispering, but Panna did not trouble herself about it,
and quietly obeyed the dictates of her conscience.
Thus three weeks had passed since the fateful day. When, on the third
Sunday, Panna entered the Molnar's hut at the usual hour, this time
with a small bottle of wine under her apron, she found Pista, for the
first time, up, and dressed.
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