Brown. You have been her guardian angel. I ought to have seen—” “It doesn’t matter a rap—if you’re not disposed to resent the—the way I behaved. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. His shadowy eyes revealed two things: that he was oversensitive in his extreme intelligence and that he suffered an acute insomnia. 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.
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