To her intense disappointment, she discovered that all papers had been removed from desks and cupboards. "Now come along, Jack. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. Lucy collapsed to the floor in a sob. 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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