From the unlovely hillside his glance strayed to the several five-story towers of the pawnshops. 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 hands reached under her skirt. She leaned over and kissed his cheek innocently.
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