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. Here was a hole as wide as a church-door. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. Scarcely any one entered Mr. Perhaps you'll give me in return some token, by which I may remind you of this occurrence, in case we meet again. She let out a delighted laugh.
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