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. Spurlock was fond of dogs; he was fond of this offspring of many mesalliances; but he never made any attempt to win Rollo, to share him. At least I can’t talk to them. . On the way home he was still thoughtful. You can pay me when we return. “To the young man himself,” he answered, “no! I simply object to his calling here two or three times a week during my absence.
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