. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. "Good bye!" cried Mrs. Her hormones were raging stupidly. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. For now, I fear there is something worse, something more present. ‘Pray you, do me this one little service, and do not ask me why.
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