When he returned, it was always the same. “Of course you don’t. ’ She giggled suddenly. She made a few protests, a few excuses for her action in accepting him, a few lame explanations, but he did not heed them or care for them. 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. "Now, Jack," cried Thames, warmly grasping Sheppard's hand, "you are my friend again.
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