THE WINDOWvanishing even as she looked, and then, as shemoved and took Minta’s arm and left the room,it changed, it shaped itself differently; it hadbecome, she knew, giving one last look at it overher shoulder, already the past.18

As usual, Lily thought. There was alwayssomething that had to be done at that precisemoment, something that Mrs. Ramsay haddecided for reasons of her own to do instantly, itmight be with every one standing about makingjokes, as now, not being able to decide whetherthey were going into the smoking-room, into thedrawing-room, up to the attics. Then one sawMrs. Ramsay in the midst of this hubbub standingthere with Minta’s arm in hers, bethink her"Yes, it is time for that now," and so make offat once with an air of secrecy to do somethingalone. And directly she went a sort of disin-tegration set in; they wavered about, wentdifferent ways, Mr. Bankes took Charles Tansleyby the arm and went off to finish on the terracethe discussion they had begun at dinner aboutpolitics, thus giving a turn to the whole poise ofthe evening, making the weight fall in a differentdirection, as if, Lily thought, seeing them go, andhearing a word or two about the policy of the173
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