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. His eyes caught at hers with passionate inquiries. ” She said warmly. ‘Either you tell me why you want the wretched animal, or it stays here.
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