" "Pity!" shrieked the widow. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. He impetuously grasped a hold of her hand, looking for a callous. “If I sit here,” he said, standing up before her abruptly, “I shall have to shout. I want her to get forward, to set her among people who'll understand what to do with her. Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead.
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