This was the bitterest hour he had ever known. ’ ‘Yes, but if it is only we that know, it is of no use at all to me. You are very lovely, Ruth. ‘Think it’s worth getting some sort of light and following her down there?’ asked Roding. 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.
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