" "Do not speak of it," rejoined Thames, with a look of horror. S. CHAPTER XXIX. ’ ‘Capting Roding wouldn’t never command me to help no Frenchie,’ said the sergeant positively. 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. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek.
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