"Ah!" cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of satisfaction. ‘So it was. Instead, God had sent her Sebastianus, a man who had sold his soul to the Devil to gain eternal life, or perhaps he was even the Devil himself. Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. That he’s come here at all shows he’ll stop at nothing. There was a stain of wine upon her dress. It really isn’t so easy to go as it seems. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
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