So she said: “I won’t come home. James’ Park?” Anna nodded, and made a careful selection from a dish of quails. Perhaps her granddaughter might marry his grandson. 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. There was no one at all in this room, but through the half-open door of one of the small apartments that gave upon it she had a glimpse of two very young girls sitting at a littered table and writing briskly. She auditioned and got a summer job teaching violin at the Mozart summer music camp for children, catching the luckiest of breaks. We shall never have an heir, you and I! My family is crumbling; all of my brothers are dead. ’ ‘Of what use to be ladylike when I cannot be a lady?’ ‘None of that.
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