Sometimes I think she’s tired of us. ’ ‘Get going, then,’ Trodger told his men. \" He perked up, ready to make conversation. Her mind jumped with questions as fear raced through her and hardened into a bid for retaliation. Larry was able to retire. White assured her. 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. Her belly was being touched, she felt her thighs caressed softly.
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