“A thick-set, coarse-looking young man, Anna!” she exclaimed in a hoarse excited whisper. ‘I’ll wager that militiaman never rode the animal, then. Then to the Dean's Head, in St. ‘Oh, I do love a flatterer. 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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