” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. “Do YOU go across the Park?” “Not usually. ’ ‘What, Madame Valade?’ demanded Gerald. And that’s why I’m at your service. ” It was a long, meandering talk, stupid, shameful, and unavoidable. Playing became a way of escape. Few men could have done as much.
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