“But how is it all going to end?” said Mr. ’ ‘Yes, well, I was too young to see it,’ the captain said, tying a knot in his makeshift bandage. As he looked in this direction, Wild gave him a significant wink, the meaning of which he was not slow to comprehend. 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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