Roger gathered a handful of stones and began to throw them. Yet there was a space round Henry, perhaps six yards in diameter, into which he dare not throw. Here, invisible yet strong, was the taboo of the old life. Round the squatting child was the protection of parents and school and policemen and the law.
“Roger splashed through the shallows to the bank. A slab of rock stood out of the ground close by him, and he sprawled backward into the foam of meadowsweet that grew thickly round its base.”