" "Wretch!" cried Jack, raising his hand in a menacing manner, "your triumph will be short-lived. "Is it poison?" she asked. 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. She walked with long swinging steps, scorning the thought of buses or the tube. ‘That is settled then. “Well, I don’t think you told him as much as that, did you?” Lady Lescelles asked.
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