” Ann Veronica made no answer. I'll try a strong dose. 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. "Speak English?" boomed the voice. That night she found a ship bound to sail for the heathen nation called America. But days had now passed. “You know what? You’re right. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt.
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