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I want to be a human being; I want to learn about things and know about things, and not to be protected as something too precious for life, cooped up in one narrow little corner. The only mercy you can show me is to kill me. But then—Oh! Madam, there are moments—moments of darkness, which overshadow a whole existence—in the lives of the poor houseless wretches who traverse the streets, when reason is well-nigh benighted; when the horrible promptings of despair can, alone, be listened to; and when vice itself assumes the aspect of virtue. " "We know it," cried several voices. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. Of you—an angel with one wing. After all there are other things. "Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips. She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin. It must be the dawn creeping in.
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