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. A medley of motives warred in her, and it was certainly not one of the least of these that she knew herself to be passionately in love with Capes; at moments she had a giddy intimation that he was beginning to feel keenly interested in her. In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. But Miss Stanley took no notice of these things. But one thing troubled him, and because of it he might never arrive on the beach. ” “Too much character, and too little sentiment,” he answered. “There is this absurd craving for Mr. “Or I wouldn’t have said anything about it. ’ ‘Yes, indeed,’ agreed Lucilla enthusiastically.
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