t did she tell you?"

This time Rozsi looked hurriedly round, and slipped away into the crowd.
After a hunt they found her, and Swithin, who was scared, growled: "You
shouldn't do such things--it's not respectable."

On higher ground, in the centre of a clear space, a military band was
playing. For the privilege of entering this charmed circle Swithin paid
three kronen, choosing naturally the best seats. He ordered wine, too,
watching Rozsi out of the corner of his eye as he poured it out. The
protecting tenderness of yesterday was all lost in this medley. It was
every man for himself, after all! The colour had deepened again in her
cheeks, she laughed, pouting her lips. Suddenly she put her glass aside.
"Thank you, very much," she said, "it is enough!"

Margit, whose pretty mouth was all smiles, cried, "Lieber Gott! is it not
good-life?" It was not a question Swithin could undertake to answer. The
band began to play a waltz. "Now they will dance. Lieber Gott! and are
the lights not wonderful?" Lamps were flickering beneath the trees like
a swarm of fireflies. There was a hum as from a gigantic beehive.
Passers-by lifted their faces, then vanished into the crowd; Rozsi stood
gazing at them spellbound, as if their very going and coming were a
delight.

The space was soon full of whirling couples. Rozsi's head began to beat
time. "O Margit!" she whispered.

Swithin's face had assumed a solemn, uneasy expression. A man raising
his hat, offered his arm to Margit. She glanced back across her shoulder
to reassure Swithin. "It is a friend," she said.

Swithin looked at Rozsi--her eyes were bright, her lips tremulous. He
slipped his hand along the table and touched her fingers. Then she
flashed a look at him--appeal, reproach, tenderness, all were expressed
in it. Was she expecting him to dance? Did she want to mix with the
rift-raff there; wish him to make an exhibition of himself in this
hurly-burly? A voice said, "Good-evening!" Before them stood Kasteliz,
in a dark coat tightly buttoned at the waist.

"You are not dancing, Rozsi Kozsanony?" (Miss Rozsi). "Let me, then,
have the pleasure." He held out his arm. Swithin stared in front of
him. In the very act of going she gave him a look that said as plain as
words: "Will you not?" But for answer he turned his eyes away, and when
he looked again she was gone. He paid the score and made his way into
the crowd. But as he went she danced by close