Don't let yer pride shut up yer heart, Mr.O'Day.

You are a gentleman and ye've lived like one, and ye've got your own and yer father's name to keep clean, and that poor child has dragged it in the mud, and the papers will be full of it, and the disgrace of it all dries ye up, and ye can go no further, and so ye cut loose and let her sink.

No, don't ye get angry with me--if ye were my own John I'd tell ye the same.

Listen--do ye hear them horns blowin' and the children shoutin'?
It's New Year's Eve--to-morrow all the slates will be wiped clean--the past rubbed out and everybody'll have a new start.

Make a clean slate of yer own heart--wipe out everything ye've got against that poor child.