He too was flushed and ruffled; one side of his collar had slipped from its stud and he held a hand to the corner of his jaw. 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. " "I knew it," rejoined Wild, with concentrated rage; "and he escaped you all, in broad day, before your faces. ’ ‘What are you about now, child?’ demanded Martha apprehensively. " "You judged rightly," rejoined Jack; "I never yet broke an engagement with friend or foe—and never will. The boy she had loved was gone. "Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell.
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