Think if your own mother was alive!” He paused, deeply moved. She despises me, I suppose. A father is in debt, we'll say. I wanted to have something to give up. I have no right to love you. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains.
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