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. " "Your arrival was most providential," said Jack. Strange, demure-looking young woman, with wonderful complexion and eyes, and a style about her, too. "Not in the least," returned Kneebone, slyly, "not in the least. She had found him! Excitement welled. ” 243 She felt a mixture of embarrassment, humiliation, and pride well up in her cheeks, flushing them. ’ She shrugged. " "There isn't an angel in heaven, Ruth, purer or sweeter than you are. He rose deliberately to his feet and confronted them.
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