A young woman with a white badge on her arm stood and counted the sections as they entered their vans. I felt his heart. Think better of it. She rolled to one side. 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. "Mr. “H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage.
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