“For luck. She did not remember him, but he said that he had introduced himself to her when she was visiting the butcher's family. ‘Her own,’ Gerald replied. People do call their unlawful children strange names. “Tell me,” she insisted, “why you look like that. “I knew of course that you were at the Montressor’s, but I had no idea that it was a music hall party afterwards. It is you who took my name, not I yours. She is Bohemian to the fingertips. There one is! The same stuff still! One has a craving in one’s blood, a craving roused, cut off from its redeeming and guiding emotional side. ‘You speak as if you expected to meet her again, Gerald. He had forgiven everybody. He donned his winter coat. It was a capital diversion; and as usual the Leatherneck bested the Britisher, in seven rounds. . She had, by the magic of recollection, set the picture of the typhoon between herself and her table companions: the terrible rollers thundering on the white shore, the deafening bellow of the wind, the bending and snapping palms, the thatches of the native huts scattering inland, the blur of sand dust, and those two outcasts defying the elements.
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