But to go courting a slave-girl, at the risk of physical hurt! A shudder of distaste wrinkled her shoulders. Here, put it on your finger. The pistol, it was not loaded. 1. 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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