T0 THE LIGHTHOUSEdisinherit her if she married him, said Mr.Ramsay. He did not look at the flowers, which hiswife was considering, but at a spot about a foot orso above them. There was no harm in him, headded, and was just about to say that anyhow hewas the only young man in England who admiredhis— when he choked it back. He would notbother her again about his books. These flowersseemed creditable, Mr. Ramsay said, lowering hisgaze and noticing something red, somethingbrown. Yes, but then these she had put in withher own hands, said Mrs. Ramsay. The questionwas, what happened if she sent bulbs down; didKennedy plant them? It was his incurable laziness; she added, moving on; lf she stood overhim all day long with a spade in her hand, he didsometimes do a stroke of work. So they strolledalong, towards the red—hot pokers. “ You’reteaching your daughters to exaggerate," said Mr.Ramsay, reproving her. Her Aunt Camilla wasfar worse than she was, Mrs. Ramsay remarked.'Nobody ever held up your Aunt Camilla as amodel of virtue that I’m aware of," said Mr.Ramsay. “ She was the most beautiful woman Iever saw," said Mrs. Ramsay. " Somebody elsewas that," said Mr. Ramsay. Prue was going tobe far more beautiful than she was, said Mrs.Ramsay. He saw no trace of it, said Mr. Ramsay.106
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