At first it was confusing and hard to deal with, as the urges were uncontrollable. No, I didn’t kill just to kill. It goes somewhat like this: I’m...walking down the street, minding my own business, thinking about work and other things. My eyes would be unfocused, not really bothering to pay attention to where I was going, as I did the same thing every day. And then my attention would snap back to reality, and I saw that face. I was suddenly bombarded with memories and experiences that were not. The eldest son died, and the old man saying that five thousand a year should not be lost to the family, made his other son — my friend — go into the business. He resisted, but had no alternative but to consent. Their dwelling-house was just by ours, but the old man now insisted on his son residing largely at the manufactory where he invited me to stay at times with him, which I did.Several houses adjoining belonged to the old man, at the East-End of London, where the manufactory was. Some faced. More

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