There is nobody, then?" "Oh, there is an aunt. My parents refuse to pay for my college. 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. She inhaled a deep breath of air—London air. . Gray and tranquil world! Amazing, passionless world! A world in which days without meaning, days in which “we don’t want things to happen” followed days without meaning—until the last thing happened, the ultimate, unavoidable, coarse, “disagreeable. To even presume a lustful thought about her was to ask for one’s own death. The atmosphere at dinner was not propitious.
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