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. Aunt and niece regarded each other silently. " "My father!" exclaimed Thames, in the utmost astonishment; "let me see it!" "Here it is," returned Jack, producing a small picture in a case set with brilliants. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. The way it had happened was stupid, absurd.
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