’ ‘I am not the imbecile you take me for,’ Gerald said with dangerous calm. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. ‘Never would he have gone to England. Or shall I ask Colonel Anson for a few hints?” “For Heaven’s sake no,” she declared. " Prudence shrugged. He was nearly wincing. It dealt from floor to ceiling and end to end with the Theory of the Forms of Life; the very duster by the blackboard was there to do its share in that work, the very washers in the taps; the room was more simply concentrated in aim even than a church. He thought rationally; that is to say, he thought clearly, as a child thinks clearly.
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