But her words were not addressed to Melusine. ” “Teddy,” said Ann Veronica, “you’re a dear!” “Oh, quite!” said Teddy, convulsively, and lifted an imaginary hat and left her. “Queer letters he writes,” she said. 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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