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sometimes she read Peter's Locke essays and found herself annoyed at his obvious blindness to what was reallygoing on.Perhaps it's impossible to wear an identity without becoming what you pretend to be. She thought of that,worried about it for a few days, and then wrote a column using that as a premise, to show that politicians whotoadied to the Russians in order to keep the peace would inevitably end up subservient to them in everything. Itwas a lovely bite at the party in power, and she got a lot of good mail about it. She also stopped being frightenedof the idea of becoming, to a degree, Demosthenes. He's smarter than Peter and I ever gave him credit for, shethought.Graff was waiting for her after school. He stood leaning on his car. He was in civilian clothes, and he hadgained weight, so she didn't recognize him at first. But he beckoned to her, and before he could introduce himselfshe remembered his name."I won't write another letter," she said. "I never should have written that one."You don't like medals, then, I guess.""Not much.""Come for a ride with me, Valentine.""I don't ride with strangers."He handed her a paper. It was a release form, and her parents had signed it."I guess you're not a stranger. Where are we going?""To see a young soldier who is in Greensboro on leave."第 243 页 共 340 页http://www.en8848.com.cn/ 原 版 英 语 阅 读 网