ACCIDENT
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ear one!you sit therein the corner of the carriage;and you do not know me;and your eyes forbid. Is it the dirt, the squalor,the wear of human bodies,and the dead faces of our neighbours?These are but symbols. You are proud; I praise you;your mouth is set; you see beyond us;and you see nothing. I have the vision of your calm, cold face,and of the black hair that waves above it;I watch you; I love you;I desire you.
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