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.