" And he proceeded to handcuff his captive. 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. "There is something in The Tale of Two Cities that is wonderful," she said. Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a hansom. “Go it, miss!” cried one.
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