His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any sentimentality, utterly selfish. “Annabel,” she said, “I have never asked you for your confidence. 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. ’ Roding allowed that he had a point, and followed him as he began to mount the stairs. E.
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