“Why on earth did you TELL me?” he cried. You have grown into my life, and I cannot tear you out. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. Stanley came home at a quarter to six—an earlier train by fifteen minutes than he affected—his sister met him in the hall with a hushed expression. “I will tell you the truth. 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. It generalized everything she put to it. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate.
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