It was astonishing how seldom it was that his instincts betrayed him. “I cannot conceive,” he said, “how any other occupation could ever have occurred to you. " "Somebody coming?" "Yes. 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. But," said the fellow, with a laugh, "he soon contrived to make his way out on it, though. Almost had Martha won out.
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