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Why not tell him? It was a crazy question, but she followed it ruthlessly. She had seen early in life that there was none in this world to audit one’s soul. A man could deform himself into the most miserable of creatures, and no holy hand would descend from the clouds and cry Halt. And if there was no auditor, then one must audit one’s own soul, tenaciously and without mercy.
Where words are scarce they are seldom spent in vain, for they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain.
