The lady grasped it more firmly and turned it upon Hilary. And, what's more, I tell you, if Captain Sheppard is hanged, you need never hope to call me Mrs. ‘I told you I could handle her. 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. ‘Because I’m a female,’ declared Lucilla unanswerably. Don't suppose," she added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate, "that I would pay him the compliment of thinking he could possibly be the father of such a boy as you.
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