They are long gone. Then she goes to a dramatic agent. 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. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. Forgive me if a certain warmth creeps into my words! The Park is green and gray to-day, but I am glowing pink and gold. ‘You don’t mind if I sit down?’ She considered him a moment, her head a little on one side. Jack was lying so still, for a moment she panicked. ‘Why not a French flag?’ ‘Because I don’t believe that fool Pottiswick could tell French from Arabic, even if he heard it as he says he did—which I take leave to doubt. But when she turned her thoughts to Morningside Park she perceived the tangled skein of life was now to be further complicated by his romantic importunity. “Eight pounds,” she plunged, and added foolishly, “fifteen pounds will see me clear of everything. She was at the end of girlhood and on the eve of a woman’s crowning experience. Little by little, she stopped hating him.
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