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She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. " "You need never be afraid of that," returned Winifred, affectionately; "my father will take care you never leave him more. " "Pshaw! you'd do as much for me any day, and think no more about it. They had changed identities absolutely. ” “A little pit!” said Ann Veronica; “a little prison!” “It’s just as often a little refuge. 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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