"Well now I won't detain Your Majesty, because I know there must be no end of grand people waiting about to see You, and me occupying Your time like this, 'oly Father. So I'll just ask You to pray for me and give me a blessing; and thank You Sir for all You've done for me, and I'll say a prayer for You every day as long as I'm spared." She got on her knees: and the Pontiff blessed her. Then He said, "When do you go back, Mrs. Dixon?" "Well, Your 'oly Majesty, I was thinking of looking about a bit while I'm 'ere, so as to have plenty to say to the lodgers: but I can't stay more than a week longer." Hadrian wrote on a card, _The bearer, Mrs. Agnes Dixon, is Our guest. Receive and assist her._ He signed it; and gave it to her, saying, "You know this place is full of lovely things, pictures and so on. And there are heaps of sacred relics in the churches. Well now, that card will admit you to see everything." "Will they let me see the fans?" "Which fans?" "Them they fan You with when You're glorified?" "Oh yes. Shew that card to the gentleman who is going to take you down stairs and tell him what you want to see." "Will they want me to give the card up at the door?" "No. Not if you want to keep it." "Ah well, I'll see everything; and I'll keep the card till I'm laid out, 'oly Father. Oh what ever can I say! You'll excuse me Sir, and I'm an honest woman: but I must kiss Your 'oly Majesty's anointed 'and. Oh bless You, my dear, bless You!" Hadrian paced through and through the apartment as soon as He was alone. "Dear good ugly righteous creature," He commented. Passing the safe in the bedroom, He let-out with His left and punched the iron door. "That's what use you are," He said; and put glycerine on His bleeding knuckles. Catching a glimpse of His face in the mirror, "Beastly hypocrite" He sneered at Himself.