The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. "I alone am to blame. 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 cannot keep silence any longer. She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. She turned to face him and he kissed her.
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