’ ‘Lord, man, it’s only a scratch!’ Suddenly Gerald snapped his fingers. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. He looked just like John Wayne in a cowboy movie, his eyes narrow and squinting, except his hair was long, unruly, and jet black. Under her feet lay intricate mosaics, and each warm hall was festooned in tapestries. As he was conveyed thither, an incident occurred that produced a considerable impression on the feelings of the youthful offender. "Maybe he realized that he was slipping fast and thought a fine action might give him a hand-hold on life again. 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. "Certainly," replied Jonathan, with the most perfect sangfroid, "I'll undertake to free you from the boy. That I should be challenged by you of all people. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. She had never thought of him at all in that way before. " "I feel bewildered," said Ruth.
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