Stanley had never thought out. 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. ‘Where is Gérard?’ ‘Out of town,’ Hilary said briefly. "There'll be a louder echo here presently," thought Jonathan. ‘For my money, you’ll not get much out of old Jarvis either. The only inconvenience I feel from my shattered noddle is an incapacity to drink. His destination was the New Mint.
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