At Miss inter’s  tes . Eleven o ty-to try. At regular intervals I stopped to turn tco tepaper basket; these pauses marked my “hours.”

    I ory I  I  ime ts and my nigime dreams  from my  from Miss inter’s. It o urned constantly was Angelfield.

    In trut uno abdicate my oo Miss inter’s story urning my back on my o one cannot simply snuff oneself out in t fas escape t it ically , I  December ing do time.

    On ter t of tears, I did not see Miss inter. Sayed in bed, seeing only Juditon. t. I  slept  t to tle room and found her in bed.

    o  a trace of makeup. Perion  its peak of effectiveness, for tranquility about  seemed ne me, but here was kindness in her eyes.

    ‘You don’t need your notebook and pencil,“ s you to do sometoday.“

    ‘?“

    Judit on t Miss inter’s ced o it. In ter of t sioned t so t Miss inter could see out of tucked a toer’s s.

    Before s sh a smile.

    ‘But o do?“ I asked Miss inter.

    ‘Cut my hair, of course.“

    ‘Cut your hair?“

    ‘Yes. Don’t look like t. to it.“

    ‘But I don’t know how.“

    ‘Just take t.“ S care . I don’t care  looks like. Just get rid of it.“

    ‘But I—“

    “Please.”

    Reluctantly I took up position beer t o touc expected it to crackle, and punctuated ty little knots.

    ‘I’d better brus first.“

    ts  a  t o simply cut ts out.

    tentatively I made t cut. A fe.

    ‘Ser t,“ Miss inter said mildly.

    ‘to ouched her shoulders.

    ‘Ser.“