’ ‘But there is still Remenham House. Hill would have followed her, but Mrs. ” She came closer. It was possible that his first impressions had not been correct. ” She turned a firelit face to her husband. 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. Ramage stood up, and suddenly turned the key in the door in an off-hand manner. ‘All this gadding about.
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