None presented themselves to save him from that return. They negotiated several steps, and then the stair turned a corner. At the back of her mind, Melusine noted an odd look in the boy’s face, but there was no time to explore it. 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 must have been very wound up.
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