lord of the flies
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The boys respond with shuffling feet and downcast eyes. Jack has no support.
“Who thinks Ralph oughtn‟t to be chief?” He looked expectantly at the boys ranged round, who had frozen. Under the palms there was deadly silence. “Hands up,” said Jack strongly, “whoever wants Ralph not to be chief?”
The silence continued, breathless and heavy and full of shame. Slowly the red drained from Jack‟s cheeks, then came back with a painful rush. He licked his lips and turned his head at an angle, so that his gaze avoided the embarrassment of linking with another‟s eye. “How many think-” His voice tailed off. The hands that held the conch shook. He cleared his throat, and spoke loudly. “All right then.” He laid the conch with great care in the grass at his feet. The humiliating tears were running from the comer of each eye. “I‟m not going to play any longer. Not with you.”
Lord of the Flies