’ ‘To be sure I do,’ said Gerald swiftly. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon. They had got all this down already—they heard the substance of it now for the fourteenth time. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. "Then I am old-fashioned. God, Lucy, what’s it been, how many years?” “I’m so sorry, John.
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