“Robert P. Warner II had been the kind of boy in high school who managed his injuries as a mother hen hovers over her chicks. He was a master of communicating physical distress to others, but the nature of the injury and the nature of the distress he would subsequently manifest were not really in accord with the laws of logic first outlined in such a cogent way by Aristotle. One time, when he had been beaned in the forehead by a volleyball in Mr. Walker’s phys ed class, the injury, such as it was, resulted in a mild ringing in the ears. But this had translated, by the end of the period, into a clear limp; by the end of the day, into a striking limp; and by the next Monday morning, into a pair of crutches and a leg brace on the outside of his jeans.”
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