“You haven’t seen him in three hundred years?” He asked. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions. ” She sat very still. Tombs were desecrated, beautiful statues toppled, and the colorful shops that she had been enchanted by along the canal had been closed or burned. They turned the corner that joined Michelle's street to her own. Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school.
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