By JOY COWLEY
"Freddy!" she called. "Freddy, I've come!"
He felt a keen disappointment. No, he didn't know her, and she had mistaken him for someone else.
"Freddy! My dearest Freddy!"
Her voice was young and shaped by some foreign accent. She'd be about sixteen, he thought. But the strange thing was, she was wet, drenched from head to foot as though she'd been in a thunderstorm. He knew then that she must have come from the commune. She must have crossed the river at a deep hole and fallen in.
"Freddy?" She stopped, a few paces from the railings. Her smile quivered and she lowered her arms.
"Sorry, I'm Brian." He was sorry, too. At that moment he would have given anything to be Freddy.
"Freddy Dysart! It's me, your Agnes."
Her eyes were the palest grey, full of light, and now showing anxiety. Her dark hair clung to her forehead and dripped over her shoulders. The dress, with its long skirt, was wrapped tight and wet against her body.
Publisher: Scholastic
Price: $13.95
Age group: 10-13 years
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Beyond the River Stones: Part 4
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