His voice now had lost its ironies. My servant. " A deep indignant groan followed. ‘Hilary was right. But ——” A look checked him. “No, I must have had hope lurking somewhere too. 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. “It rained the whole of the time, but we saw all the sights, and the place never seemed dull. But how long would she last, withering away to a desiccated pile of skin and bone? Round and round she would go.
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