I am a single man, and——” “Thank you,” she interrupted. She remembered him as a dull figure, a big man with a belly that was already showing fat under his fine scarlet clothes. 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. A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes. 1. Clothes.
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