We Spurlocks take our medicine, standing. . "Don't look at it, I entreat," she cried. “I want an engagement. 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. "Ah!" cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of satisfaction. To think of him as loving her would make all that different.
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