Page:Three stories by Vítězslav Hálek (1886).pdf/66

 shouted, “Krista! Krista!” But he was an unlucky sportsman, and then he felt as though a wound had been made in his side by some one, and as though blood trickled over that side of his body.

Krista had made that wound, she had deserted him, and now for the first time he was an orphan.