Wood scarcely knew where he was. The way it had happened was stupid, absurd. 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. ’ The woman shrugged helpless shoulders, looking to her husband. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently.
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