" And he led the way to an inner room, in the middle of which stood a table, covered with a large white cloth. Ruth could not be told now. 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. Immediately after it, he was off again, and that, let me tell you, was the last anyone saw of him. "The men.
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