It was Annabel’s. 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. As they entered the room beyond, a fierce growl was heard. Ruth took hers in the sea, but was careful never to go beyond her depth because of the sharks. ‘I have told you that I am entirely English. But the wench who tricked me shall bitterly repent it. Still it was possible, and the difficulty was only a fresh incitement.
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