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. Those were dreams. They were hailed as celebrities, the three of them. Distress like hers might palliate far greater offences than she ever committed. “So, since when does a grown man have to sneak behind the Laundromat to smoke a cigarette?” She asked 115 him. Spurlock knew exactly what he was doing, however: speculative mischief, to see how she would act. Women are not in the world in the same sense that men are—fighting individuals in a scramble. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. A wooden balcony in one of the adjoining houses was thronged with ladies, all of whom appeared to take a lively interest in the scene, and to be full of commiseration for the criminal, not, perhaps, unmixed with admiration of his appearance. You jumped, and I think that you left me.
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