“To me it seems serious enough. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. ’ ‘He does not call himself my father, for he calls himself nothing at all,’ Melusine told him, her tone violent with fury. There was only one prisoner in the ward. It was red and chapped. His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. He's a nice boy, a good student.
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