Wood fared still worse. 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. ’ ‘Ain’t you in a rage?’ asked the captain. The palanquin is hired and so is the procession. Sheppard. That really settles about that. Parbleu, but what grandfathers I have!’ It was stalemate, Gerald thought, irrepressible amusement leaping into his chest.
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