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. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. ‘It is to say goodbye, you understand. ” Annabel shivered a little and looked around her. And, in applying the term to his friend, Thames meant to pay him a high compliment. But, by Jove! you are fierce! You are like those Roman women who carry stilettos in their hair. I wanted to, that day in the Zoo.
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