’ There was a pause. By a miracle, he averted its path, his hold on the girl’s mouth shifting fast to grasp her wrist. ‘One would take it that the house had been ransacked. “A thick-set, coarse-looking young man, Anna!” she exclaimed in a hoarse excited whisper. The action steadied him; and there was a phase of irony, too, that helped. I suppose if one were to love some one, one would feel doubtful. “You frighten me!” He smiled at her indulgently. . His sword-arm fell useless at his side and she knew herself safe. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. 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. . So long as he lived, Spurlock knew that in fancy he would be reconstructing that scene between himself and Ruth's father.
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