"You buy souls?"
"Yes, a few still, in spite of you. Isn't that so, saint, with the eyes of sapphire?"
"To-day I am come to offer you a bargain," replied she.
"What?"
"I have a soul to sell, but it is costly."
"What does that signify if it is precious? The soul, like the diamond, is appraised by its transparency."
"It is mine."
The two emissaries of Satan started. Their claws were clutched under their gloves of leather; their grey eyes sparkled; the soul, pure, spotless, virginal of Kathleen—it was a priceless acquisition!
"Beauteous lady, how much do you ask?"
"A hundred and fifty thousand pieces of gold."