” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank. Sheppard. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. "I should never have acted as I did," rejoined Sheppard, bitterly; "if Mrs. . "Oh! that I could live to see it," gasped Jonathan. We'll get those books into your room first. Only her babe died.
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