When she saw however that this man was a stranger, and obviously harmless, her expression changed as though by magic. ’ ‘But you don’t look anything like her,’ burst out Mrs Ibstock. It was the crowned queen of mountains in her robes of shining white. ‘You have a knack of saying just the wrong thing. " "I've just bethought me of a crib as'll serve their turn," interposed Sharples, "at any rate, they'll be out o' the vay, and as safe as two chicks in a coop. . It was very pretty and very dainty while it lasted, but we played it with our eyes open, and we perfectly understood the game—both of us. She was crushed with a sense of her own terrible impotency. 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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