“Why? Do you think I’m a stoner?” He asked. ” “I suppose people would say that it is a matter of temperament,” she continued. They were wed in Florence, in the grandest cathedral she had ever seen, the Santa Maria del Fiore. 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. Thank you for the books.
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