"If he had the British navy all around him he couldn't be safer." "The world is at his feet," said Townsend.
"You mean at his mouth," said Roy.
"I never heard of such a thing in all my born days," said Margaret.
"He's cornered the food market," said another hungry guest.
"For goodness' sake turn your search-light on him, Dashway," said Minerva, "and let's see what he looks like.

This is simply _tragic_." Dashway Speeder turned the search-light of his launch across the fiats and there amid the surrounding mud, still bubbling from the effects of the departing tide, was presented a scene like unto a picture on a movie screen.

There, bathed in light amid the surrounding gloom, like a film star in a disk of brightness, sat Scout Harris upon a grocery box surrounded by fallen sandwiches and with a goodly bowl securely held between his diminutive knees.

It was a superb and mouth-watering close-up, to use the film phrase.
"I--I might as well eat some things, hey ?" me lone voyager called.
"Because it's past time for refreshments anyway and the tide won't carry me off for more than two hours and everybody'll be going home then and the ice cream is starting to melt, the lemon ice is getting all soft, so will it be all right to start eating the chicken salad and the sandwiches and things?
I only kind of sort of tested them so far." Warde Hollister stopped up his ears in an agony of torture while a dozen famishing boys flopped this way and that in attitudes of suffering despair.
"Yes, it will be all right," called poor Minerva in a kind of desperation.

"It's the only thing, you might as well." She seemed resigned if not reconciled.