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Yes, de true frent; all dat I do for you, I do for myself. Speak to me all dat you tink.

That is impossible! I am miserable; I live in torture; I wish I were out of this hateful world. Could it be without crime, I would have done with it at once.

What you call crime? Have you no more reason dat you mind all dat petty superstitions? Very pretty ting, indeed, to live, if you don't like it: who tank you for dat? I am free—I feel dat I am free. I not come here to be unhappy; when I be so, I go away.

Ay, but where, my friend?

To de good sound sleep; to de notting.

That were an effectual remedy. I am miserable!

And what oblige you to be so?

Ha, tempter! Would you have me destroy myself?