daily less and less of thought for what was his life with me... Oh, Oswald!... the wretchedness of it is over now, God be thanked! and not a little so because I have found thee, and thou hast found me. But only to think of it again"....
He paused as if the memory were indeed wormwood. I understood now! And oh, what mattered it that I could not yet understand or excuse the part that he had played before me for so long?—his secrecy almost inexplicable if he had had so much as a guess at my story, may feelings for him! As in a dream, believing, disbelieving, fearing, rejoicing, trembling, rapt. I began to understand Fate!
Yet, mastering my own exultant heart, I wished in those moments to think only of him. I asked gently:
"You mean your friend Karvaly?"
"Even so... Karvaly."
"O, my poor, poor Imre! My brother indeed! Tell me all. Begin at the beginning."
I shall not detail all of Imre's tale. There
