That turned her mind to the more generalized aspects of her perplexities again. 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. He then made a sort of running noose, passed it over her body, and taking firmly hold of the bars, prepared to guide her descent. Ah Cum is a Yale man and so is this Taber. And now she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name) knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it.
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