" CHAPTER XVIII. I don’t know if I express myself clearly. See!" she added, tearing the rag from her head,—"I had beautiful black hair once. He came to the door and as he opened it a crack, she pushed herself inside urgently. Recollect, he's chained to the ground by a great horse-padlock, and is never unloosed except when he comes to that hatch. 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. This he carried on by procuring witnesses to swear away the lives of those persons who had incurred his displeasure, or whom it might be necessary to remove. ’ ‘I could have done so at the first and saved you the pain,’ she told him merrily. I ought never to have thought of it.
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