‘Oh, dearie me, you make me feel a traitor. The ball passed over his head, and lodged in the ceiling. ‘I am nine-and-twenty,’ he answered. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. “It’s like this,” he said, and dragged a stool beside her and sat down with his elbow four inches from hers and made a sketch. 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. She could not see what occurred, though she guessed it; but she saw Jonathan's devilish triumphing glance, and read in it,—"Your son has committed a robbery—here—in these holy walls—he is mine—mine for ever!" She uttered a loud scream, and fainted. . “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. 1 with active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg-tm License.
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