“You know,” he went on, “this doesn’t seem to me to end anything. " "Alice in Wonderland!" cried Prudence, perhaps a little enviously. CHAPTER XXXI. 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 descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone. "Stop, Caliban," interposed Mrs. . " Mrs. . But I shall lose my wager if I stay a moment longer—so here goes. Her eyebrows were lifted in expostulation. ” John tried to direct the topic away from him. “I wonder,” she said, “why one writes him sentences like that? It’ll have to go,” she decided, “I’ve written too many already.
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