CHAPTER FORTY-FIVEWhile Lajos was away, I took the opportunity of doing house-wifely things: mending shirts and stockings — to the best of my poor ability — and trying to make myself a new gown from material I had bought cheaply in the town.
I also wrote to Aunt Edith in Scotland, though I had no idea if the letter would reach her through the current confusion, and to the Szelényis in Debrecen. The latter was a short note, for I could not guess how they regarded me now. I only knew how my mother had been treated for marrying beneath her, and how much greater was my own crime in their eyes. Colonel Drényi had already sent them word that I was alive and well, and I was sure they would have heard from the same source that I was Lajos’s wife. I couldn’t bring myself to mention this, for I cou
