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But the wench who tricked me shall bitterly repent it. And if sometimes I grow heady—and it's in the blood— remind me of this day when you took me out of hell—a thief. “Don’t come nearer!” she said. Such of his features as were visible were of coarse mould. ‘Oh, my God, she’s gone!’ Wrenching his hand from his friend’s slackened grasp, he darted for the door, Roding behind him. Anything that might stir the sense of love And God has mocked me through it all.
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