" "Better she die by her own hand, than by that monster's," cried Jack, brandishing the bar. ” He called for a hansom. “Why did you ever let me love you? Why did you ever let me peep through the gates of Paradise? Oh! my God! I don’t begin to feel and realize this yet. Thieves and pickpockets are his constant companions. 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. That night in Paris I saw on the bills ‘Fatal Motor Accidents. That, Sir, is what I call being a Good Samaritan. ” “Thanks to me,” he repeated, puzzled. I’m right again now.
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