" Silence. "Sir Rowland is your uncle—he will be your guardian—he will protect you. 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. ’ ‘Yes, but I do not wish to have a mystery. You were accused of having been seen with the latter. She felt smaller and more adventurous even than she had expected to feel. " "That's but a short distance from here, sir. He was amused.
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