” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. He rose, steadied himself, then walked out of the dining room. Directly he saw Anna he accosted her. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” It was as much an accusation as a question. Then, though full of confidence, he half doubted his power of accomplishing his designs. As Jack departed, a dark figure, emerging from behind a wall, rushed after him. Such apartments as she saw were either scandalously dirty or unaccountably dear, or both. What a heat that news had wrought. A native sold his supply of nuts in exchange for cloth, tobacco and so forth.
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