"And even if it isn't fine to-morrow," saidMrs. Ramsay, raising her eyes to glance atWilliam Bankes and Lily Briscoe as they passed,"it will be another day. And now,” she said,thinking that Lily’s charm was her Chinese eyes,aslant in her white, puckered little face, but itwould take a clever man to see it, “and now standup, and let me measure your leg," for they mightgo to the Lighthouse after all, and she must seeif the stocking did not need to be an inch or twolonger in the leg.

Smiling, for an admirable idea had flashedupon her this very second—William and Lilyshould marry—she took the heather mixturestocking, with its criss-cross of steel needlesat the mouth of it, and measured it againstJames’s leg.

"My dear, stand still," she said, for in hisjealousy, not liking to serve as measuring-blockfor the Lighthouse keeper’s little boy, Jamesfidgeted purposely; and if he did that, how couldshe see, was it too long, was it too short? sheasked.

She looked up—what demon possessed him,her youngest, her cherished?—and saw the room,45

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