For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. At this piece of information, the two subordinate officers were observed to exchange glances; and, after a little agreeable raillery on their captain's gallantry, they begged permission to accompany him in his visit. In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. God bless you, Auntie! I'll go into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if you want me to.
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