There was a tearing sound as the canvas gave way, and the precious portrait ripped apart as the top of the Frenchman’s head came through it. 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. Gerald smiled and crooked his elbow. Then suddenly her spirit rose in revolt. Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. I know what I am doing better than you do. She looked stealthily at Anna. And, besides, she didn’t just immediately want to make her attempt. Wood bore up with great fortitude against the shock, attended the inquest, delivered his evidence with composure, and gave directions afterwards for the funeral, which took place on the day but one following—Sunday. Listen. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. It is safe. The name of his father's murderer is also known to me. And it's uncanny.
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