“Come sit with me, beautiful. “If I sit here,” he said, standing up before her abruptly, “I shall have to shout. “There was a man called Montague Hill,” she said hoarsely, “but he is dead. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. \" She whispered back. I am not boring you, am I?” She raised her eyes to his and smiled into his face. He thrust out a rhetorical hand. As he proceeded, other painful reminiscences were aroused. " "Farewell, Jack," cried twenty voices.
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