In this room was my ruin begun: in this room it should be ended. ‘So it was. She wants that and needs it more than anything else in the world. 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. I must leave England to-night. She turned up dead after about eight weeks and it broke my heart. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. Wood's present position, and subsequent proceedings fully intelligible, it may be necessary to give some notion of the shape and structure of the platform on which he had taken refuge. But we were both pledged to secrecy, and I couldn’t reveal my part for fear that I would lose my place.
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