The branches of the trees on the bank looked more twisted and angular than ever, and the green of the leaves was lurid and splashed with gold.

Then Hirst began to talk, leaning over the bow.
"It makes one awfully queer, don't you find ?" he complained.

"These trees get on one's nerves--it's all so crazy.

God's undoubtedly mad.
What sane person could have conceived a wilderness like this, and peopled it with apes and alligators?
I should go mad if I lived here--raving mad." Terence attempted to answer him, but Mrs.Ambrose replied instead.

She bade him look at the way things massed themselves--look at the amazing colours, look at the shapes of the trees.