On his third visit to the island she had surprised him, that is, she had glanced up suddenly and caught the look of the beast in his eyes. Her tone should have warned him, but he was too much in earnest to regard it. Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench. He was apt to play so many games, she was afraid she might have misunderstood. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. "If I thought he lived——" observed Wood. They were going up the slope into Waterloo Station.
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