He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. She bought her Greyhound ticket one steamy afternoon when school let out at eleven thirty A. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. The poison from the teeth radiated from her shoulder and paralyzed her limbs. ‘Bête!’ Gerald caught her hand as she pulled it back to deliver another blow. When they were home, the pair headed for the Big Apple or the warmth of the Beck’s family table.
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