Did you warn Frith?’ ‘Yes. I’m glad you’re back for all sorts of reasons. . ’ ‘Yes, but I’m afraid I am far too interested to stop mixing myself in your affairs,’ Gerald said ruefully. ‘Are you going to tell me?’ ‘But looking for proof,’ Melusine uttered impatiently. ‘Damn you, what’s the matter with you?’ he snapped in frustration. ‘You imbecile. 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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