Chapter 10: “The Shell and the Glasses” 155-158: Piggy eyed the advancing figure carefully. Nowadays he sometimes found that he saw more clearly if he removed his glasses and shifted the one lens to the other eye; but even through the good eye, after what had happened, Ralph remained unmistakably Ralph. He came now out of the coconut trees, limping, dirty, with dead leaves hanging from his shock of yellow hair. One eye was a slit in his puffy cheek and a great scab had formed on his right knee. He paused for a moment and peered at the figure on the platform. “Piggy? Are you the only one left?” “There’s some littluns.” “They don’t count. No biguns?” “Oh—Samneric. They’re collecting wood.” “Nobody else?” “Not that I know of.” Ralph climbed on to the platform carefully. The coarse grass was still worn away where the assembly used to sit; the fragile white conch still gleamed by the polished seat. Ralph sat down in the grass facing the chief’s seat and the conch. Piggy knelt at his left, and for a long minute there was silence. At last Ralph cleared his throat and whispered something. Piggy whispered back. “What you say?” Ralph spoke up. “Simon.” Piggy said nothing but nodded, solemnly. They continued to sit, gazing with impaired sight at the chief’s seat and the glittering lagoon. The green light and the glossy patches of sunshine played over their befouled bodies. At length Ralph got up and went to the conch. He took the shell caressingly with both hands and knelt, leaning against the trunk. “Piggy.” “Uh?” “What we going to do?” Piggy nodded at the conch. “You could—” “Call an assembly?” Ralph laughed sharply as he said the word and Piggy frowned. “You’re still chief.” Ralph laughed again. “You are. Over us.” “I got the conch.” “Ralph! Stop laughing like that. Look, there ain’t no need, Ralph! What’s the others going to think?” At last Ralph stopped. He was shivering. “Piggy.” “Uh?” “That was Simon.”
Chapter 10: “The Shell and the Glasses” 155-158: Piggy eyed the advancing figure carefully. Nowadays he sometimes found that he saw more clearly if he removed his glasses and shifted the one lens to the other eye; but even through the good eye, after what had happened, Ralph remained unmistakably Ralph. He came now out of the coconut trees, limping, dirty, with dead leaves hanging from his shock of yellow hair. One eye was a slit in his puffy cheek and a great scab had formed on his right knee. He paused for a moment and peered at the figure on the platform. “Piggy? Are you the only one left?” “There’s some littluns.” “They don’t count. No biguns?” “Oh—Samneric. They’re collecting wood.” “Nobody else?” “Not that I know of.” Ralph climbed on to the platform carefully. The coarse grass was still worn away where the assembly used to sit; the fragile white conch still gleamed by the polished seat. Ralph sat down in the grass facing the chief’s seat and the conch. Piggy knelt at his left, and for a long minute there was silence. At last Ralph cleared his throat and whispered something. Piggy whispered back. “What you say?” Ralph spoke up. “Simon.” Piggy said nothing but nodded, solemnly. They continued to sit, gazing with impaired sight at the chief’s seat and the glittering lagoon. The green light and the glossy patches of sunshine played over their befouled bodies. At length Ralph got up and went to the conch. He took the shell caressingly with both hands and knelt, leaning against the trunk. “Piggy.” “Uh?” “What we going to do?” Piggy nodded at the conch. “You could—” “Call an assembly?” Ralph laughed sharply as he said the word and Piggy frowned. “You’re still chief.” Ralph laughed again. “You are. Over us.” “I got the conch.” “Ralph! Stop laughing like that. Look, there ain’t no need, Ralph! What’s the others going to think?” At last Ralph stopped. He was shivering. “Piggy.” “Uh?” “That was Simon.”