That is so awful. ’ A gleam of rare humour slid into Charvill’s chest. 1. 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. There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. “But of course it’s aunt’s doing really. She whipped round suddenly, and discovered the woman wedged into the corner by the window, keeping out of the way. “His stipend forbade it,” she said, and seemed to fall into a train of thought.
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