them."

"The robbers?"

"Don't be so silly, or I shall be cross!"

"I should like to see what you look like when you are cross."

"Well, I shall be if you talk such rubbish again. I catch butterflies in
the wood."

"Are there pretty butterflies there? I had a collection when I was a
student; I believe I have it still."

At this a desire for rivalry seized hold of Veronica.

"You should see my collection," she said. "I have all kinds. Tigers,
Admirals, Apollos; only, it is such a pity, my Apollo has lost one of
its wings."

"Have you a Hebe?"

"Oh, yes, it is nearly as big as the palm of my hand."

"And how big is that? Let me see it."

Veronica spread out her hand on the table; it was not so very big after
all, but fine and pink as a roseleaf. Gyuri took a match and began to
measure it, and in doing so, accidentally touched her hand with his
finger, upon which she hastily drew it away and blushed furiously.

"It is very hot," she said, putting up her hand to her hot face, as
though she had drawn it away for that purpose.

"Yes, the room has got quite hot," broke in Mrs. Szliminszky. "Unbutton
your coat, Wladin!"

Wladin heaved a sigh of relief, and undid his coat.

Veronica returned to the subject of the butterflies.

"I think butterfly catching must be the same to me as hunting is to a
man."

"I am very fond of butterflies," answered Gyuri, "because they only love
once."

"Oh, I have another reason for liking them."

"Perhaps because of their mustaches?"

Veronica turned her head away impatiently.

"Mr. Wibra, you are beginning to be unpleasant."

"Thank you for the compliment."

"What compliment?"

"You say I am beginning to be unpleasant, which is as much as to say I
was pleasant till now."

"I see it is dangerous to talk with you, for you put words into my mouth
I never intended saying. I shall not speak again."

"I'll never do it again, never, I assure you. Only do talk," pleaded
Gyuri.

"Do the butterflies really interest you?"

"Upon my honor, they interest one more at this moment than lions and
tigers."

"I think butterflies are so pretty--like a beautifully dressed woman.
And what tasteful combinations of color! I always look at their wings as
though they were so many patterns of materials. For instance, look at a
Hebe, with its black and red under-wings, do not they match beautifully
with the yellow and blue-top wings! And then the Tiger, with its brown
and yellow-spot