" As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold. 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. He stooped to recover it, and his face was hidden. " "No, no! I have had wicked thoughts. We shall become a prey to the Philistines, and must turn honest in self-defence. ’ ‘Then you shall no longer do so.
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