“I’m not so sure. . "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. " "Pray do so, Madam," retorted Mrs. “See you. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. I might utter a million, and still I doubt if I could make you understand. \"No, what?\" She said. ’ ‘What offer?’ she asked, suspicion rife in her voice. “If only her sister is half as pretty, no wonder that she has set the Parisians talking.
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