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. ‘Hilary, you must stop referring to mademoiselle as “she”. She had turned round sideways, so as to look down into the fire. She looked at her flattened belly.
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