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\"Oh my word, Mike. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. ” “Mr. ‘Exactly like my father. Her companion was a person of no inferior condition. Don’t go back into Victorian respectability and pretend you don’t know and you can’t think and all the rest of it. ” “They were my posters,” Annabel said. 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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