’ Gerald eyed her. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. There isn’t. “Ye Gods!” she said at last. Ask mercy of the Lord for the salvation of your own soul, through the merits of the death and passion of Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession for you, if you penitently return to him. But there was no sign from her. ’ ‘Leonardo again,’ Gerald muttered and, to her disappointment, dropped her hand.
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