He had fallen off when trying to tie down his aluminum paint ladder. She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. His attention drawn, the captain was easily able to make out the pretty features under the feathered hat, and the same dark riding habit the fugitive had worn on that first occasion at Remenham House. " He opened his eyes, to behold hers large with wonder. She pushed at the closer of the two soldiers bearing the precious burden. “And yet I do it without compunction. But I had to know for sure. 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. " So saying, he threw himself into a chair. McClintock liked it. Annabel was in hiding all the time. He had quite enough to see to and worry about in the City without their doing things.
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