Ye gods! what a wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. A loud buzz of curiosity circulated among the domestics; some of whom— especially the females—leaned forward to obtain a peep at the culprit. I almost wish we hadn't come. You are the High Priestess of Life. “Please play something for us,” Carol asked, her eyes aglow. 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. You see I am rather obstinate.
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