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. "You have behaved like a man of honour, Sir Rowland," said Wild, after he had twice told over the money. "I believe I'll tear them up. The young lady with whom I was dining last night was Miss Anna Pellissier. We are amiable to one another, but we don’t mix.
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