She did not want particularly to know what had caused his agony, what had driven him back to the old coat. Emile’s fist crashed into her temple and stars exploded in her vision. Cut to pieces —slashed—bloodied. She began to feel odd sensations while peering busily at his shoulder and profile. Without the protection of John’s star power, certain denizens of the school found new reserves of energy and turned their attention to her, especially Kate Pfister, a bleach blonde with a face that was a plain sort of pretty who had once dated John. One cannot expect that soldiers can be sympathique to one they believe may be a French spy.
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