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TO THE LIGHTHOUSEwalking as if she expected to meet someone roundthe corner, while for the first time in his lifeCharles Tansley felt an extraordinary pride; a mandigging in a drain stopped digging and looked ather; let his arm fall down and looked at her;Charles Tansley felt an extraordinary pride; feltthe wind and the cyclamen and the violets for hewas walking with a beautiful woman for the firsttime in his life. He had hold of her bag.2

"No going to the Lighthouse, James," hesaid, as he stood by the window, speaking awk-wardly, but trying in deference to Mrs. Ramsayto soften his voice into some semblance ofgeniality at least.

Odious little man, thought Mrs. Ramsay, whygo on saying that?

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"Perhaps you will wake up and find the sunshining and the birds singing," she said com-passionately, smoothing the little boy’s hair, forher husband, with his caustic saying that it wouldnot be fine, had dashed his spirits she could see.This going to the Lighthouse was a passion ofhis, she saw, and then, as if her husband had not28