Anna raised her eyebrows at the sight of him. Perhaps it was loneliness. " "It is past," rejoined Lady Trafford, recovering herself by a powerful effort; "but never allude to the circumstance again. "I yield to fate. Her heart ached; and that puzzled her. He misstated her age and address; but you can’t get home on him for a thing like 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.
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