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. . She said she hoped she had not distressed him by the course she had felt obliged to take, and he told her not to be a fool. The gong will go at seven-thirty. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. I cannot let you go. Enough's as good as a feast of the dainties you provide. Wood, however, made known his presence to the individual by laying his hand upon his shoulder.
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