On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. I don't care how soon he learns that he has lost his adopted son. I feel like a fraudulent trustee. I'll take them back with me. "And now, farewell, Mr. Sir Rowland waved his hand, and the attendant withdrew. 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. Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt.
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