” “He only heard this afternoon,” Sydney continued. 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. I think you will find that his story will be believed, whatever I say; and in any case, if he is going to stay on here, I shall have to go away.
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