But I’m going to-day. ” He chuckled, wincing at the thought. His eyes never left her face. "Where to, master?" asked Ben, touching his woollen cap. 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. It does not matter to him either way. He could imagine it even if he could not feel it. He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale.
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