Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. ’ His colour deepened. Why didn’t I die? Why does God hate me so? Why does He not want me? I didn’t die because I’m weak, because I am cursed! I hate this poisoned world! But most of all. They were at the corner of Pall Mall now, and had come to a standstill.
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