" "Ah! Sometimes I wonder I don't run amok and kill someone," said the Wastrel, in broken English. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. Upon the steps leading to the gates of the church stood two persons whom Jack instantly recognised. Then he opened them again suddenly, to find Courtlaw still by his side. Shari was to be protected, to be dissuaded from driving in cars with older boys at night, to be steered away from dope and beer and certain friends who had no plans to work or to go to college.
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