"I don't know how it is," he added in a low voice to Thames, as they were left alone, "but I've a strange foreboding of ill. “I’m sorry! Mary! Are you hurt?” “No. ‘Me, I have a name. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. "Ah! traitor!" cried Jack, pulling the trigger of his pistol.
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