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. But she had loved the man. She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love. Only an undermaid I was then. ’ Mrs Sindlesham laughed lightly, but her eyes quizzed him. “What’s odd?” “Oh, everything!” She shivered, and went to the fire and poked it.
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