"We have everything in America," said the girl, eyeing him dubiously.
"But no gods except money, I have heard."
"Yes, gods, and impostors too," she answered significantly.
"So I have heard," said Apollo, with composure.
The maddening thing was that she could not look away from him—some radiance of life in his face compelled her eyes. He had thrown his hat upon the grass, and the girl could see strength and sweetness and repose in every line of forehead, lip, and chin. There was pride there, too, and with it a slight leaning forward of the head.
"I presume that comes from listening to beseeching prayers," she was thinking to herself.
"Ow!" she remarked suddenly.
"That is the place, is it?"
He drew from one of the pockets of the grotesque coat a piece of sheepskin, which he proceeded to cut into two strips with his knife.
"It seems to be a very slight sprain," remarked Apollo. "I must bandage it. Have you any pins about you?"