"I suppose if a burning angel struck you out of nowhere and threw itself about you, you would most dignifiedly tell it you didn't want to be burned.

For God's sake, don't talk nonsense, Goodwin!" he ended, almost peevishly.
"Evil! Evil!" The Norseman's voice was deep, nearly a chant.

"All here is of evil: Trolldom and Helvede it is, Ja! And that she _djaevelsk_ of beauty--what is she but harlot of that shining devil they worship.

I, Olaf Huldricksson, know what she meant when she held out to you power over all the world, _Ja!_--as if the world had not devils enough in it now!" "What ?" The cry came from both O'Keefe and myself at once.
Olaf made a gesture of caution, relapsed into sullen silence.

There were footsteps on the path, and into sight came Rador--but a Rador changed.