"It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone. " The Wastrel advanced. 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. Rats and things crawling all over. "Come to me!" cried the poor maniac, who had crawled as far as the chain would permit her,—"come to me!" she cried, extending her thin arm towards him. Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. "As sure as one reasonably can be. "I never stand upon ceremony where I know I shall be welcome.
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