"Far from, it, Sir. She recognized him as the man who had blundered into the wrong room. 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. She would end alone. Then, though full of confidence, he half doubted his power of accomplishing his designs.
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