" "Poor soul!" ejaculated her son. ’ ‘You are perfectly correct,’ agreed Gerald at once. You have grown into my life, and I cannot tear you out. . ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. But at this, he halted, turning his frowning gaze back on her. You forget all the mass of training and tradition and instinct that go to make him a tolerable master.
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