Kálmán Mikszáth, Heathen Master Filcsik
“ Nothing does her any good; the voice of the man whom she loved is painful to her; it were better he were not walking at her side and would leave her to herself; the bed is hard; in vain it is made of silk and soft feathers, in vain do the servants fix it and repeatedly put it in order.How well would it be if she could lie at home beneath the paternal roof, however poor that home, beside the capacious stove, and she could hear at the open window the voice of the evening bells of Majornok, and if her cold feet were covered with the famous fur cloak of her father. ”
