"
"Must I?"
"Unless you want to put me in a great passion."
"Anything sooner than that." Then he wrote it for her.
"And now," said she, "grant me a little favor for old acquaintance.
Just kneel you down there, and let me wrestle with Heaven for you, that
you may be a brand plucked from the fire, even as I am."
The Pink of Politeness submitted, with a sigh of resignation.
Then she prayed for him so hard, so beseechingly, so eloquently, he was
amazed and touched.
She rose from her knees, and laid her head on her hand, exhausted a
little by her own earnestness.
He stood by her, and hung his head.
"You are very good," he said. "It is a shame to let you waste it on me.
Look here--I want to do a little bit of good to another man, after you
praying so beautifully."
"Ah! I am so glad. Tell me."
"Well, then, you mustn't waste a thought on me, Rhoda. I'm a gambler
and a fool: let me go to the dogs at once; it is only a question of
time: but there's a fellow here that is in trouble, and doesn't deserve
it, and he was a faithful friend to you, I believe. I never was. And he
has got a wife: and by what I hear, you could get him out, I think, and
I am sure you would be angry with me afterward if I didn't tell you;
you have such a good heart. It is Sir Charles Bassett.
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