And, though neither peace nor innocence can be restored to my bosom; though tears cannot blot out my offences, nor sorrow drown my shame; yet, knowing that my penitence is sincere, I do not despair that my transgressions may be forgiven. She felt this was the sensible way out of this oddly sinister situation. At last—I told a story. Those grand designs in the dome of St. Sheppard, so that if the blow had been stricken she must have received it.
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