She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love. 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. Without her, it was lonely. ” Annabel pulled down her veil to hide the tears. . She wondered why he was so distinctive, so unlike other men, and it never occurred to her for some time that this might be because she was falling in love with him. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. Overcome by his affliction, Mr. Oh God! pardon me. Ruth loved him. I made it a point to bring beachcombers to the house to fill her with horror of mankind. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. He stood away from her.
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