On the day he carried the manuscript to Copeley's he brought back a packet of letters, magazines, and newspapers. ‘I suppose I need not ask to which other soldier you refer. Woof! What a dog. 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. “I must take them,” she said, to help herself over her own incredulity. "Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked. ’ ‘True enough,’ nodded Martha sadly.
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