‘No, no, I am convinced your very first theory was right. 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. “You would believe that life is kindled by the passions alone. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. She walked with long swinging steps, scorning the thought of buses or the tube. ’ ‘Will you go back there?’ asked Gerald. " The elderly domestic bowed, took up the case, and retired. The solos were revealing, sensual and moody. He's as savage and suspicious as the devil himself.
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