Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared. 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. "I've waited supper, you perceive. “You are the most perfect, the most glorious of created things—tender, frank intellectual, brave, beautiful.
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