He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. So there is no escape. It has become a part of the order of my life. Book. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. The future was not so black. We may be all murdered in this unprotected place, and nobody be the wiser. The latch had not fully caught. 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. Too much, perhaps.
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