She was very pale, but she reminded him more at that minute than at any time of “Alcide” as he had first known her. But out of a belated regard for her father she wrote the surname of some one else. Glancing at each other, they rose from their seats and ventured to address the captain. He was a small, dark, reserved man, with a large inflexiblelooking convex forehead, and his wife was very pink and high-spirited, with one of those chins that pass insensibly into a full, strong neck. 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. The intoxicating sense of novelty had given place to a more business-like mood. He started a dozen stories, but they all ended in the waste-basket. Then suddenly, in front of all those windows, he folded her in his arms and pressed her to him, and kissed her unresisting face. There must be ways of getting rid of him. E. I have been thinking—I will go to my wife again. Lucy looked at her with a small measure of pity. It just made me mad to the boiling point.
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