. ’ ‘Parbleu,’ exclaimed the girl, jumping up in some dudgeon. Night and day have been alike to me. ‘You make a game with me, I think. Grudgingly he admired her. 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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