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. Wood had prevented him from paying much attention to the previous scene. She charged boldly into the space of Miss Miniver’s rhetorical pause. Perhaps there were experiences she would never confide to any man. She glanced into his face. “Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. "For what?" "I had the paper with me.
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