” Brendon went very pale. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. I love you more. “If you wish,” he said, “I will go there in the morning and see what can be done for him. “Come this way,” he said. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual. He hated the taste of it. But the letter, written in his son’s own hand, and addressed to the Mother Abbess of the Convent of the Sisters of Wisdom near Blaye in the district of Santonge, dated a little over five years previously, exercised a powerful effect upon him.
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