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‘Bête. CHAPTER III. . Moments are ages now. He was suddenly calm. “No, Lucy, because Satan does not exist. His voice when he spoke was almost fiercely assertive, but there was an undernote of nervousness. ‘It is in no way your affair, monsieur, and you will unhand me at once. “For your own sake, let me beg of you not to stay for a moment. I give myself to you. There was a new softness in her eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost pathetic. He looked eager and flushed and troubled. She was standing there, smiling at the audience as at her friends. Down there, whisky raises the very devil with white men.
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