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. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. As to Jack Sheppard, he appeared utterly reckless and insensible, and did nothing but whistle and sing the whole way. The spinsters had purchased one grass-linen tablecloth; the girl and the young man had purchased nothing. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. “I love your sister. Throwing the blanket over his left arm and shouldering the iron bar, he again clambered up the chimney; regained the Red Room; hurried along the first passage; crossed the Chapel; threaded the entry to the Lower Leads; and, in less than ten minutes after quitting the Castle, had reached the northern extremity of the prison.
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