If she could have held it in, perhaps the Virgin Mary would have sent her a miracle as reward for her strength. 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. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. One night, about this time, just as Austin was about to lock the great gate, Jonathan Wild and his two janizaries entered the Lodge with a prisoner bound hand and foot. Her wings were oddly weak, but for all that she could fly. ToC Mrs. He could not doubt it.
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