And, turning at the touch, he perceived Sheppard's glance fixed meaningly upon him. 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. She stared at him. “I think,” he said, “that I am right. It is a big house and there are many rooms in which to hide.
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