” John said. But from the first her rather old-fashioned conception of life had jarred with the suburban atmosphere, the High School spirit and the memories of the light and little Mrs. I wanted it badly. He made a note of the idea and stored it away. 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. Then he slapped his hand on his desk and looked up with the air of a man struck by a brilliant idea. The crowner's 'quest sat on her yesterday—and if she hadn't been proved out of her mind, she would have been buried at four lane-ends. And here she was—in a mess because it had been impossible for her to avoid leaning upon another man.
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