"Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. . His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. I went off to round up his wife. ” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. It slipped out—as did that “she”. As it happens sometimes, the idea stepped down from the dream into the reality; and he saw it more clearly now than he had seen it in the dream.
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