“My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure. “No, Lucy, because Satan does not exist. "So I think," replied Kneebone, again applying to the snuff-box, and by that means escaping the angry glance levelled at him by his companion. Leave me behind: I'm not afraid. The man or woman who did something for nothing always excited his suspicions; they were playing some kind of a game.
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