At times, in his seasons of deepest depressions, Angelo almost wished that he and his brother might become segregated from each other and be separate individuals, like other men.

But of course as soon as his mind cleared and these diseased imaginings passed away, he shuddered at the repulsive thought, and earnestly prayed that it might visit him no more.

To be separate, and as other men are! How awkward it would seem; how unendurable.

What would he do with his hands, his arms?
How would his legs feel?
How odd, and strange, and grotesque every action, attitude, movement, gesture would be.

To sleep by himself, eat by himself, walk by himself--how lonely, how unspeakably lonely! No, no, any fate but that.
In every way and from every point, the idea was revolting.
This was of course natural; to have felt otherwise would have been unnatural.