" "It wasn't the fumes of whisky that toppled him out of his chair. You can do it, if you will. " "A boy from his shop was here a short time ago. 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. She heard the sounds of Rhea scuttling about, and then feeding, brutally.
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