She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. If he laid his own suspicions boldly before the girl, and in the end the boy came clean, he would always be haunted by the witless cruelty of the act. The rest were hieroglyphic characters, executed in red chalk and charcoal. Brown was not a blind man and had assiduously observed many a student soap opera over the years. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him.
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