She knew that her voice was superior to Annabel’s, and she had no further qualms. ‘But a spy I am not. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. She put her hand in his to be squeezed. “Lucy, my brother is home and I borrowed the cash from him. . She thought Alice a bit of a sneak, an opinion her brothers shared, and Gwen rather a snatch at meals. He knew she had been weeping. “Quite an unimportant one,” he assured her. 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.
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