“They’d better not,” said Hetty. There was now no honest way of warning Taber that the net had been drawn. He had brought the shrubs down from Syria, and, strangely enough, they had prospered. 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. She could not make up her mind which was the finer, more elemental thing, which gave its values to the other. Her specialty is the central thing in life, it is life itself, the warmth of life, sex—and love. “Mike, what’s going on?” She sat up, groggily rubbing her eyes. Wood. Section 1. “Will you tell Sydney that I will see him in the morning,” he said. I change them in the morning at Cannon Street, and take my book as I come down. ‘I have a very good mind to do so, imbecile.
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