‘Truth is, it’s Gerald who’s put me in the devil’s own temper, ma’am. " "I'm convinced of it," replied Shotbolt; "and it was on that very account I came here. Thames returned no answer. 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. " "What!" she exclaimed, staring eagerly in his face. I ought never to have thought of it.
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