” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators. ’ Gosse blinked. “I throw it out in passing,” he said. ’ A panel slid open and she stepped into the relative light of the little dressingroom, Kimble close behind her. “Can’t you SEE how things are?” she said. Her clock had stopped—stopped at the very hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had not the heart to wind it up again. Wood, who were, furthermore, engaged in a little conjugal tête-à-tête of their own. "They say her son's taken at last, and is to be hanged. She was thinking fast now, all her senses on the alert.
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