‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. They’ll know. ‘No, but I seen the light, sir. . 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. "All right," replied Sheppard, with affected indifference. And instead of accepting the situation gratefully, he felt vaguely hurt! One evening in September a proa rasped in upon the beach.
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