The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. ’ ‘Don’t be stuffy, Hilary,’ admonished his betrothed. The walls rocked, the footrail of the bed wavered, and the girl's head had the nebulosity of a composite photograph. . " "Here you have it, my dear," returned the hawker.
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