There was nothing in the pockets of the coat. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. Montressor’s guests were. Servants were passing backwards and forwards with tea and chocolate. She loved her mother Marina more than any other thing in the world and could not bear to speak to her for a fortnight after being told her fate. The contact is disturbing; and we prefer going around the fact to facing it.
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