And, if it had not been for a taste for plotting, which was continually getting him into scrapes, he might have been accounted a respectable member of society. There indeed you see Monte Rosa. There was so much to see, so much to do, that he became what he had once been normally, a lovable boy. She hadn't measured up; she had been stupid; she hadn't known how to make love. 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.
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