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. She let out a delighted laugh. “I may go to Hatton House later, but you needn’t wait. A loud buzz of curiosity circulated among the domestics; some of whom— especially the females—leaned forward to obtain a peep at the culprit. Without her, it was lonely. “I suppose I fell in love with her, Ann Veronica. There was no marriage, and I hated, oh, how I hated the man. "Well—well," grumbled Jonathan, "I suppose I must be content. I love you still, Anna, but life holds other things than the love of man for woman. The three clerks fought for the only window, and saw her whisked into a hansom. Capes saw her, felt for her, cared for her greatly, even if he did not love her.
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