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TO THE LIGHTHOUSEwalking as if she expected to meet someone roundthe corner, while for the first time in his lifeCharles Tansley felt an extraordinary pride; a mandigging in a drain stopped digging and looked ather; let his arm fall down and looked at her;Charles Tansley felt an extraordinary pride; feltthe wind and the cyclamen and the violets for hewas walking with a beautiful woman for the firsttime in his life. He had hold of her bag.2

"No going to the Lighthouse, James," hesaid, as he stood by the window, speaking awk-wardly, but trying in deference to Mrs. Ramsayto soften his voice into some semblance ofgeniality at least.

Odious little man, thought Mrs. Ramsay, whygo on saying that?


"Perhaps you will wake up and find the sunshining and the birds singing," she said com-passionately, smoothing the little boy’s hair, forher husband, with his caustic saying that it wouldnot be fine, had dashed his spirits she could see.This going to the Lighthouse was a passion ofhis, she saw, and then, as if her husband had not28