” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. ” “You—you did what?” Anna exclaimed. Look at me, and answer me one question. He suddenly realized that he could not keep you for ever in this part of the world; so he sends you to your aunt. "I forbid you to do that. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. "I've seen him some years ago, I believe," answered Wood; "and, though he must be much changed by this time, I dare say I should know him again. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky.
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