Through the grating there came a whine,—
"Georgie!"
"My child, there is no Georgie here, but only your Judge. Confess your sins, if you will,—only to Almighty God. Shew contrition. And, by His authority committed to me His minister, I will absolve."
Then the Devil entered into her. She incoherently spluttered "I have no sins—if I had, I wouldn't tell You.—You reject me?—Oh I'll make You regret it—I'll make You suffer as I have—I'll shew you up for what You are——" She stiffened and rushed across to Jerry "Now do your worst," she said; and her face was livid.
Sant gripped the lapels of his grotesque frock-coat and approached the white figure which emerged from the central compartment of the confessional.
"I should like to mak' an end of this matter," he said.
Hadrian led the way to the throne-room: the phonographs were set to work; and the conference was resumed.
"Now," said Jerry, "I'm thinking that Your Right Reverence had better let us know definitely fhat Ye intend to do."
The Pope spoke rather more slowly and with more singular mildness than before. "You demand that We should pay you forty thousand pounds in reparation for damage which, you say, We have caused."