It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. ‘I did not think so. 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. After this occurence, not a word was exchanged between them until they came in sight of the sloop, which was lying at anchor off Wapping. Sheppard, with a deep sigh, perceiving that her benefactor hesitated to pronounce the word. My dress, my person will be minutely described.
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