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On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet. . 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. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. ‘To me, quickly!’ There was a brief hush, and then the shouts resumed and several pairs of feet clattered towards her from, as it seemed, several directions.
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This video was uploaded to southwestbyways.info on 18-09-2024 09:03:40
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