He reached out a hand gropingly, sagged, and toppled out of the chair to the floor, where he lay very still. "Thumping; but that's only excitement. You're the first widow I ever heard of who could withstand that lure. Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. 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.
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