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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. They thought that she was her own mother. When I think of it—” “But these are things I want to tell you now!” “I made a little song of it. And then: “Of course! Always.
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