” Miss Stanley turned to her. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. “He is very kind, Anna, really, and not half such a prig as he seems. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. Warren’s Profession furtively with Hetty Widgett from the gallery of a Stage Society performance one Monday afternoon. Beside me on Anna’s table was a pistol. The assemblage was for the most part, if not altogether, composed of persons to whom vice in all its aspects was too familiar to present much of novelty, in whatever form it was exhibited. “Heavens, look at the time!” she exclaimed.
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