” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. Melusine did not try to fight her captor, for that would only make him angry. They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. Run along now; but return in half an hour. Certain it was, that the slightest sound aroused him.
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