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. It comforts him when he is most forlorn. ” Inwardly, she laughed at the idea of him trying to beat on her, flailing, his arms akimbo. org/fundraising. A note of belligerency had crept into his tone.
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