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Or mad, just as the captain had said so many times. Anna raised her eyebrows at the sight of him. "What weight are these irons?" asked Jonathan, coolly addressing one of the partners. And now, a fair exchange, Sir. " "Ay—ay," laughed Jonathan. Her shoulders were gripped hard and a familiar voice spoke. 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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