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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. So I undertook to protect her by keeping love out of her life, by crushing it whenever it appeared, obliterating it. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. And now you know. I don't ask you to supply my place—for that is, perhaps, impossible.
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This video was uploaded to erdmanporsche.com on 31-05-2024 19:22:57
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