” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. For a pity, she has chosen to remain, and it has been her death. . You're an angel of goodness. I didn’t realize—I don’t see how I can get out of it now. ” “Thanks to me,” he repeated, puzzled. “When it comes there is no mistaking it. It would be the wrappered world almost at its best. You don’t understand the fix I am in. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered.
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