‘My papa he does not wish me to marry the man I choose, and thus he places me in the convent that the nuns may lock me up and I cannot escape. Great sport, eh? To haul them back from the ragged edge. “It is a night of endings,” she murmured to herself. “I’ve been to hear you lots of times. Never mind. " Thames tried to answer her, but his voice failed him. Wood fancied he recognised. There were more of us back then, and we weren’t seen as ghouls, in fact, in Greece and the time before we were worshipped as gods. She felt the bedsprings coil as he moved from his seated position, entranced. ‘Who the devil is Leonardo?’ demanded Roding impatiently, asking the question that had leapt into the major’s mind. 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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