Stanley. ‘Why?’ Melusine eyed him dubiously. It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own. ‘Be quiet, man,’ snapped Hilary, watching the Frenchman go by with the lad after him. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. Oh, to face facts! Gods! what a world it might be if people faced facts! Understanding! Understanding! There is no other salvation.
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