" "What proof have you that I am?"—was the return bolt. She had not anticipated such a response from her classmates, but knew to be drawing them with her self-consciousness as if they were bees to pollen. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. “No, Lucy, because Satan does not exist. She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers. Rousing himself, he went to the door.
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