But she did not believe he would do that. 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. The man himself was not a pleasant object. She had always had a wonderful ear for phrasing, even back in the days of the viol. I stubbornly insisted that we wait, and you woke up. Diedermeyer, sweetheart? He just went in. ‘Sapristi,’ he gasped. ‘As I said, a mistake. And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark. ” “Possibly—bit by bit. Ann Veronica’s tense nerves started, and she stood still with her eyes upon him, wondering what it might be that impended.
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