A Cingalese box dropped and burst open, scattering bright stones, false or precious, broadcast.

She trampled them in her blind and furious search.
"Come," said Chantel, and snatched at her.

"Leave those.

Come to the boat.

Every minute--" She pushed him aside like a thing without weight or meaning, stooped again among the gay rubbish, caught up a necklace, flung it down for the sake of a brooch, then dropped everything and turned with blank, dilated eyes, and the face of a child lost in a crowd.
"Rudolph," she whimpered, "help me.