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"Oh! no—no—no," cried Winifred, "I cannot believe it. 7. ’ Gerald could not suppress a grin. The elastic spirits of youth resumed their sway; and, before the coach stopped, his tears had ceased to flow. ” “I care as a man cares only once in his life,” he answered promptly. Ann Veronica considered her answer. Not like my father. 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. “I love this warm end of summer more than words can tell,” he said. Particularly when it was obvious the fellow was one of these pitiful wretches weak enough to allow themselves to be ousted from their inheritances and thus obliged to come seeking succour of their neighbours.
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