To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. Very likely you will disapprove highly of what I have done—I wonder? You may, perhaps, think I have done it just in a fit of childish petulance because my father locked me in when I wanted to go to a ball of which he did not approve. So Ruth returned to her room and sorted the books and magazines the doctor had loaned her, inspected the titles and searched for pictures. . There sprang from that a vague hope that perhaps she might extort a capitulation from her father by a threat to seek that position, and then with overwhelming clearness it came to her that whatever happened she would never be able to tell her father about her debt. “Then your name——” “My name is Pellissier. Here she walked more slowly, looking constantly at the notices in the shop windows. ’ She drew a heavy breath. 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. Swiftly following the sound of knocking, she crossed right and passed through a door near the windows—and found herself in the bookroom. .
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