The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. . Knew something was up. ” She spoke like a mistress addressing school-children. Have you got someone in mind for me?" "Finish your breakfast and I'll tell you the story. The sea was no longer rolling brass; it was bluer than anything he had ever seen. ‘It is nothing at all of the kind. 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. She dropped on her knees by his side, and gently unbuttoned his waistcoat.
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