She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction. She was trying to bring her problems to a head, and her mind insisted upon being even more discursive and atmospheric than usual. 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. " "Since you require it, I must obey," replied Kneebone; "but prepare yourself for a terrible shock. It was time to get up. ” “I am afraid I have not been very nice,” she said sadly. ‘I know that, miss.
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