You must be lonely here with only a few men friends. . The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. ‘Do not look at me so,’ he snapped. ‘And it is me you dare accuse? It is yourself you should arrest.
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