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A woman still more a woman who is pleased to please forgives any sin that is committed for her beauty's sake, and Sirona's voice had a friendly ring in it as she bid Hermas good-morning and asked him how his father was, and whether the senator's medicine had been of service.
Abel Newt seemed to her the handsomest fellow she had ever seen. What he had said both piqued and pleased her. It pleased her because it piqued her. "Women are naturally noble," he continued, in a low, rippling voice. "If they see that a man sincerely admires them they forgive him, although he can not say so. Yes, and a woman who really loves a man forgives him every thing."
He did not know that the one thing a woman never really forgives is a false position, and that even the best of women in such cases think the most unjust things. Winsome moved towards the inner door of her grandmother's room. Ralph put out his hand as if to touch hers, but Winsome withdrew herself with a swift, fierce movement, and held the door open for him to pass in.
Hermia laughed but the Countess Olga's narrowed eyes passed Hilda scornfully. "Any one can have good manners. They're the hallmark of mediocrity. And as for impudence that is the one sin a man may commit which a woman forgives." "I can't," said Hilda. The Countess Olga's right shoulder moved toward her ear the fraction of an inch.
"You have only one chance of salvation as it is," continued the President. "Go to my cousin, make your excuses to him, and tell him that you will lose your situations unless he forgives you, for I shall turn you all away if he does not." Next morning the President went out fairly early to pay a call on his cousin before going down to the court.
"He forgives his enemies, no doubt, heaping coals of fire on their heads." "You will witness it Morris. You will see him among them, and it will make your heart glow. Poor creatures! I have heard some of them own to him, from their sick beds, with dread and tears, that they broke his windows, and slandered his name.
These words were more than transparent; they made the king blush, but this time with pleasure. He struck Manicamp gently on the shoulder. "Well, well, Monsieur de Manicamp, you are not only a ready, witty fellow, but a brave gentleman besides, and your friend De Guiche is a paladin quite after my own heart; you will express that to him from me." "Your majesty forgives me, then?" "Completely."
And that is only a highly imaginative way of saying that it is the love against which we transgress that thins away the cloud of transgression, and at last, as the placid moon, by simply shining silently on, will sweep the whole sky clear of its clouds, dissipates them all, and leaves the calm blue. God forgives.
You little knew, when you and your gay-faced cousin were making merry at my expense, what wrath you were storing up against the day of evil. But I come of a race that never forgets or forgives; there is some of the blood of the wild Zingara coursing in these shrivelled veins a love of vengeance, that is dearer than the love of life. I watched your love intrigue from the very first.
I suppose directly they say: 'Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in Thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called Thy son, then God just folds them in His arms and forgives them and takes them back again; isn't that it?" "Look here, I think we have had enough of this subject. Talk about something else." Sir Edward's tone was irritable. Milly's ready tongue obeyed.
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