Existence seemed hollow and uninteresting.

We thought of the happy days of childhood, and sighed.

We brightened up a bit, however, over the apple-tart, and, when George drew out a tin of pine-apple from the bottom of the hamper, and rolled it into the middle of the boat, we felt that life was worth living after all.
We are very fond of pine-apple, all three of us.

We looked at the picture on the tin; we thought of the juice.

We smiled at one another, and Harris got a spoon ready.
Then we looked for the knife to open the tin with.