‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. The Return 231 II. You look like a movie star. " "So it seems," observed the woollen-draper, "and for every one else, too. ’ He stopped suddenly, dismay creeping into his face. 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.
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