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. At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted. Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form.
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