They were both conscious, however, that something had intervened between them. Her confession was still unmade. " "Nonsense!" "Something's wrong. ” She smiled artificially as she scanned the audience and located John. 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. Why did you let him have it?" "Let him have it? I can't stand at the elbow of any of the guests and regulate his or her actions. . The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. " "No fear of that," rejoined Rowland: "such vermin never dare to show themselves in this privileged district. ” She muttered some unlady-like comment upon herself under her breath and engaged in secret additions. " "Do not delay," cried Thames. He stopped abruptly. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. The lines about his mouth gradually softened.
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