Ramage looked at her for a long and discriminating interval without speaking. She returned home to the Beck house soaked and soggy. At other times he seemed to have regained the normal completely. Maybe half a year, counting this summer. This time, there was no doubt, she did not sleep. 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.
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