" Ruth spread out the ruffled skirt, sundrily torn and soiled. The aunt rushed over to her nephew, knelt and wrapped him in her arms. 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. Mr. " "I don't care if he is," rejoined Thames, boldly. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. . ” That conversation ended and he turned to her again. When in the plenitude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till then unknown—namely, a traffic in human blood.
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