"If you've done wrong, confess it, and I'll forgive you!" "I don't deserve to be forgiven!" returned Jack, bursting into tears; "for I'm afraid I've done very wrong. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. He wasn't satisfied with an assured income from the paper-mills your grandfather left us. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. I haven't forgotten her previous history. Her heart thudded.
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