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THE WINDOW 91road, which was shaded with high bushes, how theywould retreat into solitude together, and walk onand on, he always leading her, and she pressing closeto his side (as she did now). As they turned by thecross-roads he thought what an appalling experiencehe had been through, and he must tell someone—Mrs Ramsay, of course, for it took his breath away tothink what he had been and done. It had been farand away the worst moment of his life when he askedMinta to marry him. He would go straight to MrsRamsay, because he felt somehow that she was theperson who had made him do it. She had made himthink he could do anything. Nobody else took himseriously. But she made him believe that he coulddo whatever he wanted. He had felt her eyes onhim all day to-day, following him about (though shenever said a word) as if she were saying: ‘Yes, youcan do it. I believe in you. I expect it of you.'She had made him feel all that, and directly they gotback (he looked for the lights of the house above thebay) he would go to her and say: ‘I’ve done it, MrsRamsay; thanks to you.’ And so turning into thelane that led to the house he could see lights movingabout in the upper windows. They must be awfullylate then. People were getting ready for dinner. Thehouse was all lit up, and the lights after the darknessmade his eyes feel full, and he said to himself, child-ishly, as he walked up the drive, Lights, lights, lights,and repeated in a dazed way, Lights, lights, lights,as they came into the house, staring about him withhis face quite stiff. But, good heavens, he said tohimself, putting his hand to his tie, I must not makea fool of myself.)