“Of course it is okay!” Cathy’s voice rose in volume and in pitch. 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. " "Not necessarily. . "Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him.
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