As he entered the shop, a tall portly personage advanced to meet him, whom he at once recognised as the present proprietor. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. " As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold. “None, I thank you,” he answered. .
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