Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate. 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. Even the chattering monkeys, parrots, and parrakeets departed the fruit groves for the smelly dark of the jungle. At any moment, Cathy Beck could arrive home and see them, then he would be eating dinner with 6 them, almost whether he liked it or not. But, bloodan'-'ouns! man, if ould Nick himself were to hit me a blow, I'd be afther givin' him another.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTMzLjEyNy4xNDcgLSAxNi0wNy0yMDI0IDA2OjQwOjMwIC0gMTExMzA0OTI3MQ==
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