It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream. " There were two Condemned Holds,—one for each sex. 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. What was she going to do? One main idea possessed her: she must get away from home, she must assert herself at once or perish. “What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked. You can do it, if you will.
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