(With a rapidity common in the tropics--although it may just be
OLIVER'S gallantry--the sun climbs out of the sea, and floods the
island, JILL, no longer frightened, steps out of the boat, and they
walk up to the clearing in the middle.)

JILL (looking about her). Oh, what a lovely island! I think it's
lovely, Oliver.

OLIVER (modestly). It's pretty decent, isn't it? Won't you lie down? I
generally lie down here and watch the turtles coming out of the sea to
deposit their eggs on the sand.

JILL (lying down). How many do they de-deposit usually, Oliver?

OLIVER. Oh, three--or a hundred. Just depends how hungry I am. Have a
bull's-eye, won't you?

JILL (excitedly). Oh, did you bring some?

OLIVER (annoyed). Bring some? (Brightening up) Oh, you mean from the
wreck?

JILL (hastily). Yes, from the wreck. I mean besides the axe and the
bag of nails and the gunpowder.

OLIVER. Couldn't. The ship sank with all hands before I could get
them. But it doesn't matter, because (going up to one of the trees) I
recognise this as the bull's-eye tree. (He picks a couple of
bull's-eyes and gives one to her.)