She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. He was here shortly after the young man was taken ill. She felt terribly modern, even sporty as the magazines declared you should be. 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. “No, that’s fine. "Close the door!" commanded Trenchard, impatiently. ’ ‘Ah, but I have a special reason for doing so this time. ‘You have said you do not wish to hurt me.
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