Will you forgive me—if I say no more?” She looked at him with perplexed, earnest eyes. Maybe it’s his loss. Mrs. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. 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. There was a hint of tears in her voice. For he come after her, did Mr Charvill.
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