When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. " "Off!" she exclaimed, breaking from his embrace with a scream. But … he must want to live in order that the inclination to repeat this incident may not recur. "And the will?" he said, with forced calmness. He had saluted her with elaborate civility, his eyes distended with indecipherable meanings. A fortnight passed, then a month.
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