“But your hair,” he gasped. 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. ‘I don’t want that girl running her head into any more danger. Sheppard, he turned to quit the churchyard.
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