” Her answer was terse. ’ ‘Ah, no?’ She saw his guard relax and lunged again. There was a pause, and then the front door slammed. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. “I do not lay claim,” he continued, “to any remarkable amount of insight, but it is possible, is it not, that I have stumbled upon your present cause of distress. 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. ” Annabel laughed softly. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. “But your hair,” he gasped. \"You're so strong. I tried to get across the terrace and onto the bridge to introduce myself, but the crowds did not part and I lost you.
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