” He ran around his car and opened the door for her as she desperately tried to view out of the corner of her eye the man sitting silently in the squad car. The evening was warm and inviting, one meant to be spent outdoors. I do not choose the vicomte, for that would be foolish. 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. \" Cathy poured her a glass. He watched her constantly, trapped her in corners and slept with his arms locking her like a human cage.
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