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. ’ ‘Then what?’ demanded Lucilla in a hushed tone. "The poor young man!" sighed Angelina. ” “I’ve been certain of it for years. . It exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of life.
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