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. Hold your hand for a moment. ” He shook his head, and threw open the door of a great dimly-lit apartment on the ground floor. But his own situation was too perilous to admit of his rendering any assistance to the ill-fated waterman. Ann Veronica forgot him as soon as she was through the gate, and her face resumed its expression of stern preoccupation.
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