"Yes, of course, if it's fine tomorrow," said Mrs.Ramsay. "But you’ll have to be up with the lark,"she added.

To her son these words conveyed an extraordi-nary joy, as if it were settled, the expeditionwere bound to take place, and the wonder towhich he had looked forward, for years and yearsit seemed, was, after a night’s darkness and a day’ssail, within touch. Since he belonged, even at theage of six, to that great clan which cannot keepthis feeling separate from that, but must let futureprospects, with their joys and sorrows, cloud whatis actually at hand, since to such people even inearliest childhood any turn in the wheel of sensationhas the power to crystallise and transfix themoment upon which its gloom or radiance rests,James Ramsay, sitting on the floor cutting out pic-tures from the illustrated catalogue of the Armyand Navy Stores, endowed the picture of a refrig-erator, as his mother spoke, with heavenly bliss. Itwas fringed with joy. The wheelbarrow, the lawn-mower, the sound of poplar trees, leaves whitening9
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