Gathering his thoughts, he took the paper off the easel and handed it to Melanie, who had come to the doorway:
"I'd like you to have this painting. I hope your work and life go well."
After a brief pause, he looked at Pavo, who was still repairing the telegraph machine.
"Looks like I won't get the chance to send a telegram today. I'll be off, then."
Melanie took the painting and asked, "Won't you wait a little longer? Maybe Pavo will have the telegraph machine fixed soon."
Cyril smiled and pointed at the sky, which was already growing dim.
"But if I wait any longer, it'll be dark."
Melanie nodded apologetically. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for so long for nothing."
"It looks like there might be a storm tonight. You'd better not stay out too late. Storms at this time of year can easily make people sick."
Cyril nodded. "All right. Thanks for the warning."
After exchanging a few more words, Cyril packed up his painting supplies and left.
After he was gone, Melanie admired the painting for a while, then walked over to Pavo, who was still repairing the telegraph machine.
"Pavo, look. This painting is really nice."
"It's a shame it's already getting late. Otherwise, I'd love to ask the painter to do a portrait just for me."
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Before she could finish, the telegraph machine on the desk suddenly began to click. A strip of slightly warm paper emerged from it.
Melanie stared in astonishment at the machine, which had suddenly started working.
"Pavo, when did you fix it?"
Pavo, crouched beside the desk, shook his head repeatedly.
"No, I haven't even figured out where to start. It just suddenly fixed itself."
Melanie hurried to the doorway and looked outside, but