THE WINDOWthey put the light (and James could not sleepwithout a light) there was always a shadow some-where.

"But think, Cam, it’s only an old pig," saidMrs. Ramsay, "a nice black pig like the pigs atthe farm." But Cam thought it was a horridthing, branching at her all over the room.

"Well then," said Mrs. Ramsay, “we willcover it up," and they all watched her go to thechest of drawers, and open the little drawersquickly one after another, and not seeing anythingthat would do, she quickly took her own shawl offand wound it round the skull, round and roundand round, and then she came back to Cam andlaid her head almost flat on the pillow besideCam’s and said how lovely it looked now; howthe fairies would love it; it was like a bird’s nest;it was like a beautiful mountain such as shehad seen abroad, with valleys and flowers andbells ringing and birds singing and little goatsand antelopes . . . She could see the wordsechoing as she spoke them rhythmically in Cam’smind, and Cam was repeating after her how itwas like a mountain, a bird’s nest, a garden, andthere were little antelopes, and her eyes wereopening and shutting, and Mrs. Ramsay wenton saying still more monotonously, and morerhythmically and more nonsensically, how sheM177
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