Something in her lack of embarrassment irritated 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. It is an Occidental point of view. You break into a gentleman’s residence —’ ‘I did not break in. ” “It’s so strange to think of you—troubled by such things. He loved the sea, and could give a good account of himself in any weather.
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