He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. A farthing candle, stuck in a bottle neck, shed its feeble light upon the table, which, owing to the provident kindness of Mr. Had she too been flying from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what frying-pan could be equal to this fire? All this led him back to the original circle. ‘And what is it you’re to rescue her from, I should like to know. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. She stared at him.
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