I said, ‘It is no use your telling me about this walk and pretend I’ve been told about the ball, because you haven’t. ” She took a step. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. “It may be more difficult than you think,” she said. He was apt to play so many games, she was afraid she might have misunderstood. I don’t believe in the faults. But the indecision, which had been fatal to his race, was fatal to him. And yet, the doctor recalled an expression of the girl's: that it was not a dissipated face, only troubled.
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