213.Chapter Eighteen（14）

theywereallcryingtogether；and，intoxicatedbythenoise，theunanimity，thesenseofrhythmicalatonement，theymight，itseemed，havegoneonforhours-almostindefinitely。butataboutthetwenty-fifthrepetitiontheproceedingswerestartlinglyinterrupted。yetanotherhelicopterhadarrivedfromacrossthehog’sback，hungpoisedabovethecrowd，thendroppedwithinafewyardsofwherethesavagewasstanding，intheopenspacebetweenthelineofsightseersandthelighthouse。theroaroftheairscrewsmomentarilydrownedtheshouting；then，asthemachinetouchedthegroundandtheengineswereturnedoff：“we–want–thewhip；we–want–thewhip，”brokeoutagaininthesameloud，insistentmonotone。

thedoorofthehelicopteropened，andoutstepped，firstafairandruddy-facedyoungman，then，ingreenvelveteenshorts，whiteshirt，andjockeycap，ayoungwoman。

atthesightoftheyoungwoman，thesavagestarted，recoiled，turnedpale。

theyoungwomanstood，smilingathim–anuncertain，imploring，almostabjectsmile。thesecondspassed。herlipsmoved，shewassayingsomething；butthesoundofhervoicewascoveredbytheloudreiteratedrefrainofthesightseers。

“we–want–thewhip！we–want–thewhip！”

theyoungwomanpressedbothhandstoherleftside，andonthatpeach-bright，doll-beautifulfaceofhersappearedastrangelyincongrousexpressionofyearningdistress。herblueeyesseemedtogrowlarger，brighter；andsuddenlytwotearsrolleddownhercheeks。inaudibly，shespokeagain；then，withaquick，impassionedgesturestretchedoutherarmstowardsthesavage，steppedforward。