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. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. "The doctor said something about that. “He’s got almost to like it. There's a feather in your cap! No house-breaker was ever so highly honoured before. Gerald stood quite still for a moment or two, listening intently. I will be up with my wife and daughter after lunch.
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