But not finding it, he had again recourse to the bludgeon, and began beating the hand fixed on the upper rail, until, by smashing the fingers, he forced it to relinquish its hold. 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. "Somebody ought to get hold of that young man," said Prudence, grimly, as she nodded in Spurlock's direction. ” She sat motionless, with her hand tightening over the edge of the table, and he, too, said no more.
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