Flushing set
aside her sketch and stared ahead of her in silence. Hirst woke up; they
were then called to luncheon, and while they ate it, the steamer came
to a standstill a little way out from the bank. The boat which was towed
behind them was brought to the side, and the ladies were helped into it.
For protection against boredom, Helen put a book of memoirs beneath her
arm, and Mrs. Flushing her paint-box, and, thus equipped, they allowed
themselves to be set on shore on the verge of the forest.
They had not strolled more than a few hundred yards along the track
which ran parallel with the river before Helen professed to find it
was unbearably hot. The river breeze had ceased, and a hot steamy
atmosphere, thick with scents, came from the forest.
"I shall sit down here," she announced, pointing to the trunk of a
tree which had fallen long ago and was now laced across and across
by creepers and thong-like brambles. She seated herself, opened her
parasol, and looked at the river which was barred by the stems of trees.
She turned her back to the trees which disappeared in black shadow
behind her.
"I quite agree," said Mrs. Flushing, and proceeded to undo her
paint-box. Her husband strolled about to select an interesting point of
view for her. Hirst cleared a space on the ground by Helen's side, and
seated himself with great deliberation, as if he did not mean to move
until he had talked to her for a long time.
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