"Begone! or I fire!" he cried. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. ‘Gerald, this is a nun’s habit. Glancing at each other, they rose from their seats and ventured to address the captain. You are a sisterless man; you have never heard the ordinary talk that goes on at a girls’ boarding-school. The angels in Heaven shall not tear you from me. “Not home yet, miss,” the young man replied.
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