[He really can't relate, can he? Lobelia still recalls that memory of Beelzebub's vividly, that hunger that simply would not relent. Lobelia understood, to some degree, having felt such emptiness himself. Now, however...]

Do your ears not work correctly? I need nothing from you, Beelzebub. I took what I needed and nothing more. Consider yourself successful in having pleased someone with your relentless appetite.

[Is he being mean? Undoubtedly, but there's no hint of malice in Lobelia's voice. No pleasure derived from Beelzebub's frustration. It's as Lobelia said: he doesn't need to whittle away at others to sustain himself now.]

You are free to turn on your heel and walk away. No one is forcing you to engage with me, mind you.