"I knew his poor mother, and for her sake I'll not see this done," cried John Dump. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. It was really very jolly to talk to a man in this way—who saw the woman in her and did not treat her as a child. The odds were astounding and yet he had it bad. His heart hammered in his chest. He allowed his voice to drip with sympathy. His eyes were narrow with desire like a panther’s as he grinned at seeing her visibly satisfied. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands.
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