” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. But she certainly remembered that when she was a little girl he sometimes wore tennis flannels, and also rode a bicycle very dexterously in through the gates to the front door. It’s a sort of blacklegging to want to have a life of one’s own. “I am much obliged to you,” he said. "What shall we do, Poll?" hesitated Edgeworth Bess. Love and companionship. .
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