Darkness closed in on them as the officers stepped inside the musty interior. 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. He went to Harvard instead. It was a hoax, it was the only thing possible, until she heard Cathy say, “Let me hold those for you.
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