" "You shall take my life first," rejoined Sheppard. You can’t go. ‘But we—mon mari and myself—we have the bonne chance. 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. " O'Higgins grinned. He did not know what her game was, although he had a shrewd suspicion that she had been co-opted into it by her supposed husband, the soi-disant Valade. At second hand it would be unendurable. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage.
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