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. I wonder——” He turned slowly round. It had been Ann Veronica’s lot as the youngest child to live in a home that became less animated and various as she grew up. There was already a score or more of people there, some standing up and talking together, others seated in chairs ranged along the wall. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. Frequently he would take up a box of talc and send a shower down his back, or fill his palms with the powder and rub his face and arms and hands. ‘I know just what he was doing. Much to my amazement, as soon as I was in her presence I forgot about my magic and thought only of love. It is the vapouring school girl. Somebody to depend upon her; somebody to have need of her, if only for a little while. ‘Something wrong, madame?’ Her fan came up swiftly, hiding the lower part of her face. “Good evening, Dorling,” he said.
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