Pista now went to work again and endured days of bitter suffering. He
was ridiculed because a girl had thrashed him, the cruel nickname of
"the Hideous One" was given him, people gazed at him with horror
whenever he appeared in the street. Panna continued to visit him every
Sunday, but he received her distantly, taciturnly, even sullenly.
So Christmas came. On Christmas Eve Panna had a long talk with her
father, and the next morning, after church, he again went to old Frau
Molnar and without any preamble, said bluntly and plainly:
"Why won't Pista marry my Panna?"
The widow clasped her hands and answered:
"Would she take him?"
"You are all blind mice together," scolded the peasant, "of course she
would, or surely she wouldn't do what she has done for months past.
Isn't it enough that she runs after the obstinate blockhead? She can't
ask him to have her."
Just then Pista himself came in. His mother hesitatingly told him what
she had just heard, and the old woman looked at him enquiringly and
expectantly. When the young man heard what they were discussing he
became very pale and agitated, but at first said nothing.
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