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. But she could tell by the dullness of his eyes that he saw only some inner vision. She waited for him to leave the room, and turned back to Gerald. “I have answered all your questions,” she said. I know very well Gerald has been fishing for information about that girl, and I am determined to find out what he knows. But what's to be done?" "The first thing I do," replied Jack, "will be to visit my poor mother in Bedlam.
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