“No, I am alone,” she answered. Robbed of their prey, the fury of the mob became ungovernable. ’ ‘No, I wouldn’t have believed you. ‘Well, she’d better learn fast if she wants any truck with me. The Protestant Flagellant, who whipped his soul rather than his body, who made self-denial the rack and the boot, who believed that on Sunday it was sacrilegious to smile, blasphemous to laugh! Spurlock had gone back spiritually three hundred years.
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