Mr. Inglethorp, knowing what I have now told you, do you still refuse to say where you were at six o'clock on Monday afternoon?" With a groan, Alfred Inglethorp sank down again and buried his face in his hands. 
Alfred Inglethorp, facing the question of his whereabouts, could only cover his face with his hands.
With gusto, Alfred Inglethorp replied that he had been at the local pub on Monday at six.
Unfortunately for New Orleans, his plans did not come to fruition.
the man running a race
Two boys outside.
I think he's weak.
This area should not be confused with the Great Morass near Negril.
A person in front of a shop.