Wood. . ’ She paused, holding her nurse’s eyes. “Then—then we can talk things out. “Where is she?” He would yell even louder until she was sure that people in faraway fishing boats could probably hear him. Both started. Miss Charvill. E. But it was very hard to follow. She had not chosen her life, but she was foggy on whether or not it was right to deny others the right to join her in her suffering. ’ Total bullshit, if you ask me. 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. Perhaps I ought to have let you order the dinner, but I think I got through it pretty well.
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