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. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. And put ‘em in little books for remembrance. He frowned. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. And then she would find work. . There is some deep treachery hidden beneath his words. “WHAT a place! “Stuffy isn’t the word for it. " "Better eat these, even if you don't want them," she urged.
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