You and Mrs. Murphy go on with your church; it
won't make YOU any better."
She shivered under this parting shot, and crept back into the
shop. Still the priest came next day.
She followed him in to the bedside and knelt timidly.
"Tony," she whispered, "here's Father Leblanc."
Tony was too languid to curse out loud; he only expressed his
hate in a toss of the black beard and shaggy mane.
"Tony," she said nervously, "won't you do it now? It won't take
long, and it will be better for you when you go--Oh, Tony,
don't--don't laugh. Please, Tony, here's the priest."
But the Titan roared aloud: "No; get out. Think I'm a-going to
give you a chance to grab my money now? Let me die and go to hell
in peace."
Father Leblanc knelt meekly and prayed, and the woman's weak
pleadings continued,--
"Tony, I've been true and good and faithful to you. Don't die
and leave me no better than before. Tony, I do want to be a good
woman once, a real-for-true married woman. Tony, here's the
priest; say yes." And she wrung her ringless hands.
"You want my money," said Tony, slowly, "and you sha'n't have it,
not a cent; John shall have it."
Father Leblanc shrank away like a fading spectre. He came next
day and next day, only to see re-enacted the same piteous
scene,--the woman pleading to be made a wife ere death hushed
Tony's blasphemies, the man chuckling in pain-racked glee at the
prospect of her bereaved misery.
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