“An uncle in New York is dead, and has left him loads of money. She held her hand to the place where he had slapped her. “Would you wait for me?” Manning was silent for a space. “No, I’m fine. He had a narrow escape, however; for, passing within an inch of him, the bullet burried itself deeply in the wall. It would not burden him with any obligation. Where is he?" "Within this room," replied the knight. It’s—it’s a social difference. ” 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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