He was the true optimist; and that he should proceed, serenely unconscious of reefs and storms, she accepted the double buffets. I undid his coat, and I took it from his pocket. 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. The only thing that was louder to her was the beating of his heart. “You are really a good Samaritan,” she declared.
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