org Section 4. “Heavens, look at the time!” she exclaimed. It was Annabel who spoke. That is so awful. 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. But it is that I have a very bad temper, you understand. How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement. That he had resolved upon its execution, whatever it might be, was evident from his saying aloud,— "I will do it. I hope this is all.
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