I daresay that is one of the names of the nuns in your convent. 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. Borne along by the current, Darrell was instantly at the boat's side. pglaf. ‘Why, you have heard yourself all that is being said.
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