I’d
forgotten what his eyes could do – what they could make us do – when he stared down from his pulpit and held us, one by one, in his gaze. P. 4 Then he reared up on his muscled haunches and punched the air…p. 5 The Puritans, who are few amongst us now, and sorely pressed, had the running of the village then. It was their sermons we grew up listening to in a church bare of adornment, their notion