THE WINDOWRamsay, Lily felt, as she talked about the skins ofvegetables, exalted that, worshipped that; held herhands over it to warm them, to protect it, and yet,having brought it all about, somehow laughed, ledher victims, Lily felt, to the altar. It came overher too now—the emotion, the vibration, of love.How inconspicuous she felt herself by Paul’s side!He, glowing, burning; she, aloof, satirical; he,bound for adventure; she, moored to the shore; he,launched, incautious; she, solitary, left out—and,ready to implore a share, if it were disaster, in hisdisaster, she said shyly:

"When did Minta lose her brooch?"

He smiled the most exquisite smile, veiled bymemory, tinged by dreams. He shook his head. "Onthe beach," he said.

“I’m going to find it," he said, "I’m getting upearly." This being kept secret from Minta, he low-ered his voice, and turned his eyes to where she sat,laughing, beside Mr. Ramsay.

Lily wanted to protest violently and outrageouslyher desire to help him, envisaging how in the dawnon the beach she would be the one to pounce on thebrooch half-hidden by some stone, and thus herselfbe included among the sailors and adventurers. Butwhat did he reply to her offer? She actually saidwith an emotion that she seldom let appear, "Let153
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