Jonathan laughed scornfully. ‘You cannot read my mind at all, monsieur. Come along, master. Manning. As he looked around, he beheld an incessant stream of passengers hurrying on below. What do you say to Brighton——” Anna looked at him quietly—and he never finished his sentence. 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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