“We do not want the men,” said Miss Miniver; “we do not want them, with their sneers and loud laughter. 271 His parents suggested that he go into therapy. ” He paused for a moment, and then suddenly continued. 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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