" "Poor soul!" ejaculated her son. " "That is to say, you wish you had let me die?" "That was the thought. I make no apology for not being with you now. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. I offered myself as a clerk, as a milliner, as a shop girl. He did make her perceive something of the acute, tormenting desire for her that had arisen in him and possessed him.
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