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” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. “Kick aht at ‘em!” though, indeed, she went now with Christian meekness, resenting only the thrusting policemen’s hands. ‘I want a word with you, my lad. As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. “Annabel! Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself, child?” she exclaimed. And then she fell into a musing about Capes.
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