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She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof. “Well, I don’t want you to talk to him,” he said, very firmly. She turned off the light and approached the window. Horrible doubts assailed her. "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. . " "Lord, that's just the lesson I've been expounding! It isn't a question of fear; it's one of propriety.
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