” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. On the way he confessed. To find the incentive! But how? Thither and yon the idea roved, seeking the way. The odour of coconut prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned pleasure junket, The Tigress was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. She cried for hours but would not scream as her mother was packed into a marble coffin. But not once in these ten years had they borne blossom or fruit. Piano wire, stained with black rust from the horrible deeds she had committed. “It has been proved,” said Miss Miniver, and added, “by American professors. ” “And you?” “Rather!” “I wonder why?” “There’s no why. I am one of those people who are interested in women, more interested than I am in anything else. It is of no use. He was astonished. I’ve been smoking cigarettes in the preparation-room and thinking this out.
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