The landscape seemed an enchanted one, a something seen in a dream or a delirium.

It was as though the change had already come, and the real tangible world had passed away.

He was the more susceptible from the depression caused by the hot sultriness of the night, and his separation from Julia.
He thought he would try to penetrate the crowd to the point where his mother was; then he would be near her, and nearer to Julia if anything happened.

A curious infatuation had taken hold of August.

He knew that it was an infatuation, but he could not shake it off.