” “What?” He asked, confused. “Both. CHAPTER XXVII. Gerald watched her vanish into the darkness, unusually incensed. "I think you're all bewitched," she cried. "I'm almost afraid to state it," faltered the other; "but, may I ask whether Mr. ’ ‘Eh bien, what then?’ Emile sidled closer. ” “I suppose so. 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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