" CHAPTER V. “I don’t know, John. " "For me!" vociferated Mrs. Spurlock. " "You do not remember me, I dare say," observed the stranger. The tapstress was full of curiosity; but she appeared more easy than the others. 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.
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