We made sure it was just like Gwen. It was a beautiful place that she had found, a round cave by a small stream. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. "It was the story of a man, so to speak, who had left his vitals in his native land and wandered strange paths emptily. 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. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.
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