She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly. “And by what right do you do anything of the sort?” “No right at all,” he admitted. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. Bottles and glasses usurped the place of dishes and plates. She sat down by the paperrack with a general feeling of resemblance to Vivie Warren, and looked through the Morning Post and Standard and Telegraph, and afterward the half-penny sheets.
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