You, madam, are ignorant of the enormity of my crime, and of the secret--the horrid secret which labours at my breast. My guilt is beyond remedy in this world, and I fear will be without pardon in the next; I therefore hope little from confession even to a priest. Yet some good it is still in my power to do; let me disclose to you that secret which is so mysteriously connected with the southern apartments of this castle.'
A Sicilian Romance
·
Ann Radcliffe
