But it wasn’t the harassment that bothered her. Heliers. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. Maggot lent her powerful aid, and, between the two, Jack was speedily relieved from all fears of being carried off against his will. Nor Jacques. 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. ’ ‘A pretty tale.
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