8. "I beg your pardon!… A bit rocky this morning…. “There’s no one here except me. Um. Besides, she will do no such thing. She would never again be lonely. "But, I half suspect, of your father. ’ ‘The what, miss?’ asked Kimble, frowning. If she had any idea at all, it was something she dimly recalled from her books: something celestially beautiful, with a happy ending. And so bitterly did the carpenter reproach himself with his neglect, that he resolved, at all risks, to go back in search of it. 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.
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