" "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. 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. “So your father brought you here to live in the States?” John asked. Don’t be frightened, dear. 1. Her likeness to her sister gave him at first almost a shock; a moment afterwards he was conscious of a wonderful sense of relief.
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