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To the Persian
I am leaving this letter for you, because once you were my friend. Now of course, I have only enemies. People scream when they see my face. I am clever, it is true, but no woman can ever love me. And how can a man live without love?
When I was a chled, I was very unhappy. My mother never kissed me. She didn't want to look at me because I was so ugly. And years later, when I was a man, I did many terrible things. I know tha, and I am sorry know. But I did one good thin in my life. Christine is free. She can marry the Vicomte and be happy.
But I can never forget her wonderful voice, and I cannot live without her.
And so, goodbye.
Erik
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