’ He laughed. The psychic vibration of him thickened the air of the room as if he were already inside. 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 must think it over. Sooner or later we’ll certainly do something to clean those prisons you told me about—limewash the underside of life. The supreme effect for Ann Veronica was its surpassing relevance; it made every other atmosphere she knew seem discursive and confused. ‘Obstinate fool!’ She saw Gosse raise a hand, and dug into her nun’s habit for the knife she had not thought to need. If this girl hadn't busted into the game, Spurlock would still be at the hotel. He went in there, and he was in there for a good half hour. The air was thick with feelings. Take a room!” “I say!” said Constance.
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