"Your master wants a few table-spoons, child," said Mrs. "Suppose we go and have tea? I'd like to take you to a teahouse I know, but we'll go to the Victoria instead. ” Lucy said. How plainly he could see the patch of garden in the summer sunshine and the white hollyhocks nodding above the picket fence! ***** Ruth sat waiting for the half hour, subconsciously. 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. So appalling was the sight, that even the murderers—familiar as they were with scenes of slaughter,—looked aghast at it.
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