Gerald sympathised with his friend’s irritation. He helped himself to a beer, then a vodka and tonic, then two rum and Cokes. He was a just man, and he did not care to start any thunder which was not based upon fairness. "Now, Sir, I'll trouble you for your coat. 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.
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