" "Could I credit your wild story, I might do so," returned Thames, with a look of perplexity. ” He uttered thoughtfully. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. ” She took his hand and smiled upon him. 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. ’ ‘How can you possibly enquire for her?’ demanded Hilary acidly. “They make me want to shout,” said Mr. Captain Hilary Roding and his inamorata, Miss Lucilla Froxfield. " "We shall see," rejoined Jonathan, turning carelessly upon his heel.
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