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The narrator directs focus back to the snail, which is still considering how to reach its destination without having to cross a dead leaf, an object too fragile to hold the snail’s weight. Finally, it decides to travel underneath the leaf since it can squeeze through a gap created by its upward curve. Just as the snail moves under this gap, adjusting to the darkness, a young man and woman pass by.
The young man mentions the fact that it isn’t Friday, calling it lucky. If it were Friday, he says, they would have paid sixpence to enter the gardens. The woman, Trissie, asks, “Isn’t it worth sixpence?” and he responds by questioning the meaning of “it.” Their conversation is marked by long, tense, and uncomfortable pauses, and they speak monotonously. They stand at the edge of the flower bed, his hand resting heavily on hers, pressing her parasol into the earth below. The conversation, although the narrator reports very little of it, seems weighted with meaning. They shift to a conversation about getting tea, and the young man pulls Trissie down the path, although she seems to want to view the flowers, cranes, Chinese pagoda, and other sights along the way.
As the story ends, the narrator explains that this is how the day at Kew Gardens passes, one couple after another passing the flower bed. People are wrapped in a green-blue hue which eventually dissipates. The day is so hot that the thrush does not leave the shadow of the flowers. White butterflies dance in the sky, creating the impression of a shattered marble column. The palm houses with glass roofs shine brightly, giving off the impression of multiple green umbrellas. The sound of an airplane adds to the sound of everything else in the sky. People stand beneath trees to enjoy the shade. Talk goes on, and even where silence falls in the garden, the surrounding city is noisy with buses and activity. The voices of the people and colorful flowers all around the garden paint an energetic and vibrant scene, despite the blazing summer heat.
