” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. Shari proceeded to paint, brush, dust, slather, and blot Lucy’s face with makeup. "Red apples and snow!" she sent back at him, her face suddenly transfixed by some inner glory. Lucy had just began to invoke a solace where John was concerned, doing her best to shelve him as not so special after all. . He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. She discovered him sitting upon the floor beside his open trunk. ’ ‘I do not lie to you now,’ she said, near frantic at the thought of losing him. Men of action by the scarlet coats with their grey facings—insignia of the county militia. And it’s no use thinking he’d stop her. Apparently she was always doomed to weep when she talked to her father. She was keenly resolved to do well in the school examination, and not to be drowned in the seas of emotion that threatened to submerge her intellectual being. I have been thinking—I will go to my wife again.
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