"I had to give in to him. We’ll run away together, we’ll elope. "I am," replied Jonathan, following him, "and so," he added in an undertone, "are your captors. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. Time after time he sent Spurlock into this corner or that; but always the boy regained his feet before the murderous boot could reach the mark. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise.
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