Toner, you and I will pull him through," which greatly comforted the
widow's heart.
Five minutes passed by Coristine's watch, and then he determined to
stand the nonsense no longer. He coughed, stamped his feet, and finally
walked in at the door, followed by the widow. The pseudo priest was
sitting on a chair now, listening to the penitent's confidences. "Time
is up," said the lawyer fiercely, and the impostor arose, resumed his
three-cornered black wideawake, pocketed his book, which really was a
large pocket book full of notes in pencil, and expressed his regret at
leaving, as he had another family, a very sad case, to visit that night.
As he passed Coristine, the latter refused his proffered hand and hissed
in his ear: "You are the most damnable scoundrel I ever met, and I'll
serve you out for this with the penitentiary." The masquerader grinned
unclerically, his back being to the other occupants of the house, and
whispered back, "Not much you won't, no nor the halfpenny tentiary
either; bye-bye!"
"How are you feeling, Ben?" the lawyer asked the sick man, as he
approached his bedside.
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