‘This is a private house,’ Hilary said severely, ‘and you are trespassing. 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. ‘Parbleu,’ came indignantly from the lady. She was still fully dressed; so all she had to do was to pause before the mirror and give her hair a few pats.
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