The lad looked alarmed. If he dies she is safe. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. He did not have to. ‘Seems to me, missie, as you’re as dangerous a female as I’m like to see. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. ’ To Gerald’s relief, the entrance of the butler interrupted them, relieving him of the necessity to explain himself. “The fellow is not such a blackguard, after all. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school.
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