" "Poor Jack!" exclaimed Thames. 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. You say you love me and want to marry, but those are strong, potent words, words meant to last a lifetime. " "That's right, Captain," cried Blueskin. And her kind of love forgives everything and anything but infidelity.
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