Since her husband has laid me under such a weight of obligation, I couldn't, in honour, continue— hem!" and he took another explanatory pinch. The pistol, it was not loaded. “You are absurd,” she declared. 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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