“Of all the people I’ve ever met,” he said, “you’re the least adventurous.  You might be sitting on green chairs in Hyde Park.  Are you going to sit there the whole afternoon?  Aren’t you going to walk?”

“Oh, no,” said Helen, “one’s only got to use one’s eye.  There’s everything here—­everything,” she repeated in a drowsy tone of voice.  “What will you gain by walking?”

“You’ll be hot and disagreeable by tea-time, we shall be cool and sweet,” put in Hirst.  Into his eyes as he looked up at them had come yellow and green reflections from the sky and the branches, robbing them of their intentness, and he seemed to think what he did not say.  It was thus taken for granted by them both that Terence and Rachel proposed to walk into the woods together; with one look at each other they turned away.

“Good-bye!” cried Rachel.

“Good-by.  Beware of snakes,” Hirst replied.  He settled himself still more comfortably under the shade of the fallen tree and Helen’s figure.  As they went, Mr. Flushing called after them, “We must start in an hour.  Hewet, please remember that.  An hour.”

Whether made by man, or for some reason preserved by nature, there was a wide pathway striking through the forest at right angles to the river.  It resembled a drive in an English forest, save that tropical bushes with their sword-like leaves grew at the side, and the ground was covered with an unmarked springy moss instead of grass, starred with little yellow flowers.  As they passed into the depths of the forest the light grew dimmer, and the noises of the ordinary world were replaced by those creaking and sighing sounds which suggest to the traveller in a forest that he is walking at the bottom of the sea.  The path narrowed and turned; it was hedged in by dense creepers which knotted tree to tree, and burst here and there into star-shaped crimson blossoms.  The sighing and creaking up above were broken every now and then by the jarring cry of some startled animal.  The atmosphere was close and the air came at them in languid puffs of scent.  The vast green light was broken here and there by a round of pure yellow sunlight which fell through some gap in the immense umbrella of green above, and in these yellow spaces crimson and black butterflies were circling and settling.  Terence and Rachel hardly spoke.

Not only did the silence weigh upon them, but they were both unable to frame any thoughts.  There was something between them which had to be spoken of.  One of them had to begin, but which of them was it to be?  Then Hewet picked up a red fruit and threw it as high as he could.  When it dropped, he would speak.  They heard the flapping of great wings; they heard the fruit go pattering through the leaves and eventually fall with a thud.  The silence was again profound.

“Does this frighten you?” Terence asked when the sound of the fruit falling had completely died away.

“No,” she answered.  “I like it.”