It is an Occidental point of view. Lucy had tried for years to find a way of not getting blood all over herself when she made a kill. “I’m a big boy, you know. ” She could have handled ten times the weight, and hoisted him on her back and carried him too. ‘That is what she wants, is it?’ ‘Do you blame her?’ he said stiffly. He sat on the bed, throwing aside his hat. But for all that, it offered relief; his brain, stupefied by the fumes, grew dull, and conscience lost its edge to bite.
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