E. Spurlock sat limply, his arms hanging. "He is all alone. The night was now profoundly dark. ‘But for how long?’ Lady Bicknacre asked apprehensively. 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. Sit down, I command you.
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