She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief. Stanley as they drew alongside, to account for his own ruffled and heated expression. ” Annabel laughed derisively and took up her book. ” “That sounds more promising,” Lady Lescelles declared. . She chuckled. 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. My father's chief fear, I must tell you, is from the baneful influence of Jonathan Wild.
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