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When they were little, Paul chased Bella around the beach relentlessly. He loved to torture her with worms, slugs, dead fish, or anything disgusting he could get his dirty, little hands on. She tattled on him daily, to her mother, to his mother, or to Mrs. Black who babysat her sometimes.

His mother would cluck her tongue and say in reproving tones, "Paul, why can't you be nice to Bella? She's such a sweet girl."

And Paul really didn't know why he couldn't. Something in him insisted on harassing Bella as much as possible.

Bella's mother didn't seem too bothered by it. Paul's mother would take over some cornbread or flowers from her garden to apologize, and Mrs. Swan would just smile and say, "No apologies necessary. Boys will be boys. I just wished they'd stay in the hair-pulling stage forever."

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