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’ Chapter Ten ‘I am come on a mission of some delicacy, ma’am,’ Gerald said calmly to the old lady. A faint buzz above the ceiling witnessed that petrography, too, was active. “Can’t stop, thanks,” he answered. 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.
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