The sun in his eyes reminded him how time was passing, so he took the conch down from the tree and exanined the surface. Exposure to the air had bleached the yellow and pink to near-white, and transparency. Ralph felt a kind of affectionate reverence for the conch even though he had fished the thing out of the lagoon himself. He faced the place of assembly and put the conch to his lips.
The others were waiting for this and came straight away. Those who were aware that a ship had passed the island while the fire was out were subdued by the thought of Ralph's anger; while those, including the littluns who did not know, were impressed by the general air of solemnity.