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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. Kneebone,—pray go!" implored Winifred. "And I," muttered Jack. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. ” “You alarm me,” she murmured, smiling. The street was deserted, no pedestrian school-goers walked immediately in front or behind them.
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