Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. ‘But on the off chance—slim, I grant you —that there is a spy down there, I don’t want to miss the fun. "Well—well," grumbled Jonathan, "I suppose I must be content. We looked upon you, my dear Sir John, with reverence, almost with awe. ” He replied. ‘But that will do for a start. " "No.
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