’ ‘What about the lad?’ said the captain suddenly. His brows drew a little nearer together. He was never drunk in the accepted meaning of the word; rather he walked in a kind of stupefaction. 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. Nothing that I desire to remember," replied Sheppard, sternly. His head bent down, intent on kissing her underneath the showerhead. But Darrell averted his head.
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