“No, Lucy, because Satan does not exist. Superstition is the Chinese Reaper. You know, Melusine. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations. ” She said as she rested her head against his chest, eyes unfocused on the fading sky.
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