Forprotectionagainstboredom，Helenputabookofmemoirsbeneathherarm，andMrs。Flushingherpaint-box，and，thusequipped，theyallowedthemselvestobesetonshoreonthevergeoftheforest。
TheyhadnotstrolledmorethanafewhundredyardsalongthetrackwhichranparallelwiththeriverbeforeHelenprofessedtofinditwasunbearablyhot。Theriverbreezehadceased，andahotsteamyatmosphere，thickwithscents，camefromtheforest。
“Ishallsitdownhere，“sheannounced，pointingtothetrunkofatreewhichhadfallenlongagoandwasnowlacedacrossandacrossbycreepersandthong-likebrambles。Sheseatedherself，openedherparasol，andlookedattheriverwhichwasbarredbythestemsoftrees。
Sheturnedherbacktothetreeswhichdisappearedinblackshadowbehindher。
“Iquiteagree，“saidMrs。Flushing，andproceededtoundoherpaint-box。Herhusbandstrolledabouttoselectaninterestingpointofviewforher。HirstclearedaspaceonthegroundbyHelen’sside，andseatedhimselfwithgreatdeliberation，asifhedidnotmeantomoveuntilhehadtalkedtoherforalongtime。