पृष्ठ 173 / 483

"Why do you call to my remembrance," I rejoined, "circumstances

of which I shudder to reflect, that I have been the miserable

origin and author? Cursed be the day, abhorred devil, in which

you first saw light! Cursed (although I curse myself) be the

hands that formed you! You have made me wretched beyond

expression. You have left me no power to consider whether I am

just to you or not. Begone! Relieve me from the sight of your

detested form."