” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. Her back arched slightly in response. She dressed quickly, pulling on white jeans and a red tee shirt. The main idea now is of the future. I love my husband. And in its way it was very well. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain.
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