"Stop!" said Montanelli.
He was standing with one hand on the chancel rail.
"When you receive the Holy Eucharist in
Rome," he said, "pray for one in deep affliction--
for one on whose soul the hand of the Lord is heavy."
There were almost tears in his voice, and the
Gadfly's resolution wavered. Another instant and
he would have betrayed himself. Then the
thought of the variety-show came up again, and
he remembered, like Jonah, that he did well to
be angry.
"Who am I, that He should hear my prayers?
A leper and an outcast! If I could bring to His
throne, as Your Eminence can, the offering of a
holy life--of a soul without spot or secret
shame------"
Montanelli turned abruptly away.
"I have only one offering to give," he said; "a
broken heart."
. . . . .
A few days later the Gadfly returned to Florence
in the diligence from Pistoja. He went
straight to Gemma's lodgings, but she was out.
Leaving a message that he would return in the
morning he went home, sincerely hoping that he
should not again find his study invaded by Zita.
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