THE WINDOWscrupulous and clean) she just stood there. He juststood there. Her shoes were excellent, he observed.They allowed the toes their natural expansion.Lodging in the same house with her, he had noticedtoo, how orderly she was, up before breakfast andoff to paint, he believed, alone: poor, presumably,and without the complexion or the allurement ofMiss Doyle certainly, but with a good sense whichmade her in his eyes superior to that young lady.Now, for instance, when Ramsay bore down onthem, shouting, gesticulating, Miss Briscoe, he feltcertain, understood.“Some one had blundered."

Mr. Ramsay glared at them. He glared at themwithout seeming to see them. That did make themboth vaguely uncomfortable. Together they had seena thing they had not been meant to see. They hadencroached upon a privacy. So, Lily thought, it wasprobably an excuse of his for moving, for getting outof earshot, that made Mr. Bankes almost immedi-ately say something about its being chilly and sug-gest taking a stroll. She would come, yes. But it waswith difficulty that she took her eyes off her picture.

The jacmanna was bright violet; the wall staringwhite. She would not have considered it honest totamper with the bright violet and the staring white,31
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