I have never spoken of these things to any human being. It vosh plain he vent dat vay. ’ ‘I will not. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. I am not of the canaille, but a bourgeois.
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