THE WINDOWarate, but all marvellously controlled in an invisibleelastic net—danced up and down in Lily's mind, inand about the branches of the pear tree, where stillhung in effigy the scrubbed kitchen table, symbolof her profound respect for Mr. Ramsay's mind, un-til her thought which had spun quicker and quickerexploded of its own intensity; she felt released; ashot went off close at hand, and there came, flyingfrom its fragments, frightened, effusive, tumultuous,a flock of starlings.

"Jasper!" said Mr. Bankes. They turned the waythe starlings flew, over the terrace. Following thescatter of swift-flying birds in the sky they steppedthrough the gap in the high hedge straight into Mr.Ramsay, who boomed tragically at them, "Someone had blundered!"

His eyes, glazed with emotion, defiant with tragicintensity, met theirs for a second, and trembled onthe verge of recognition; but then, raising his hand,half-way to his face as if to avert, to brush off, inan agony of peevish shame, their normal gaze, as ifhe begged them to withhold for a moment what heknew to be inevitable, as if he impressed upon themhis own child-like resentment of interruption, yeteven in the moment of discovery was not to berouted utterly, but was determined to hold fast tosomething of this delicious emotion, this impure41
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