He stamped his last letter as Annabel entered. 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. “You are coming in, aren’t you, Sydney?” “If I may,” he answered. ‘Knowed it the instant I set eyes on her.
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