I’ve got a streak of male. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. He never appears to so little advantage as when speaking of him. ’ ‘How do you know?’ Lucilla repeated, almost as sceptical as her intended spouse. 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. I suppose because it IS the chief thing in life.
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