Stanley coughed and faced toward the house. . 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. Your poor cheeks are quite sunken and hollow. Wood became sensible that he was not alone. But if she smiled at all it was with her eyes. ” He looked into her pale blue eyes. ” “Let me tell you the reason you are here.
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