“I mean to go to prison directly the session is over,” said Miss Klegg. 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. At this moment, a coach passed them, and was instantly hailed by Thames. ” “We will go to a very quiet place,” he assured her, “a place where I have often taken my own sisters. I'll bet you haven't given her a bucket of paint in three years. The great heart of the world beats only where men and women are gathered together.
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