Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. ’ Melusine remembered a thin man of sour aspect, living—like her father and his wife Suzanne—off the vicomte’s bounty. 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. She wanted to think. I could resist the tempter now, I am strong in health,—in mind. What she had termed illuminative now appeared to be only another phase of the mystery which enveloped the child. It developed into a sort of secret and private bad manners.
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