Tears sprang to her eyes. And Mother trusted him. Then came the cable that you were in Canton, ill, but not dangerously so. 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. Presently he heard her voice. ’ ‘Unless it is Captain Roding,’ put in Lucilla Froxfield from the curved back sofa on the other side of the fireplace. ‘I’ll get the key,’ said Roding, turning abruptly. I may add that the family is well known to me. Her sense of humour could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity. It’s time she knew.
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