However, not only did Frank prove his power, but he was also the man chosen by the spiritron vein. Even if the tramp had no idea what that was, the name definitely sounded like a champion of justice.
And if it chose Frank, that meant that Frank would not be all that bad.
Moreover, she could be of help to him if she stayed—however little that might be, at least she was not useless.
So, what reason was there for her not to stay with him now?
-
Ten minutes later, they arrived at the foot of the mountain.
As the tramp got into the Rolls-Royce and stared upward at the sunroof, she frowned. "I think I've been in a car like this!"
Frank smiled. "So you're a special one, be it in terms of brain or possession. You must've been a big deal, so it makes sense that you've been in a car like this."
The tramp nodded, and Frank asked, "You're really not going to say goodbye to the villagers?"
She shook her head, holding tightly to her carpet and chess set while smiling, "I'm worried that they'd worry about me, so leaving quietly would be best."
Frank nodded, but while the tramp could leave quietly, he could not.
While he never said anything to the villagers, he wrote down everything that had happened on a wall. He made sure to include his name and a debit card, as a gesture of gratitude toward the villagers.
On the other hand, Sally was studying the tramp and the rags she wore, asking in curiosity, "Could you be a fallen angel, losing your memories when you were kicked down from heaven?"
The tramp smiled in wry amusement. "You really know how to joke, lady! But if there's a god, why would those villagers be forced to live such sad lives?"
Sally turned toward Frank, who shrugged—he had no idea what this was about either.
-
Soon, the Rolls-Royce was once again outside Whitney Chandler's mansion.
By the time food was served, the tramp was done bathing and left the bathroom, leaving Whitney shocked.
She could tell that she was pretty from her voice, but not this pretty!
The tramp was slender and had neat facial features, as well as the bearing of showbiz stars. Even Alda did not hold a candle to her, as she had natural beauty as if she had transcended beyond the mundane!
"What's wrong, ma'am?" The tramp had no idea why Whitney was staring blankly at her and touched her face as she thought she still had soap on her cheeks.
Whitney shook her head. "It's nothing! Your hair is just a little messy, and I know hairdressing. Why not let me give you a trim?"
"Thanks!"
Poor people got married early, and Whitney divorced early. Left all on her own, she had done everything to make money, including hairdressing.
While she was no match for the stylists working in big cities, she was still skilled. With her scissors, the tramp's frizzy, disheveled hair was trimmed neatly.
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