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To THE LIGHTHOUSEPaul took her down the garden to look at theBelgian hares which he bred, and Minta followedthem, singing, and put her bare arm on hisshoulder, lest he should tell her anything.

Minta was bored by hares, Lily thought. ButMinta never gave herself away. She never saidthings like that about playing chess in coffeehouses. She was far too conscious, far too wary.But to-go on with their story—they had gotthrough the dangerous stage by now. She hadbeen staying with them last summer some timeand the car broke down and Minta had to handhim his tools. He sat on the road mending thecar, and it was the way she gave him the toolsbusiness — like, straightforward, friendly — thatproved it was all right now. They were “ in love"no longer; no, he had taken up with anotherwoman, a serious woman, with her hair in a plaitand a case in her hand (Minta had describedher gratefully,'almost admiringly), who went tomeetings and shared Paul’s views (they had gotmore and more pronounced) about the taxation ofland values and a, capital levy. Far from breakingup the marriage, that alliance had righted it.They were excellent friends, obviously, as he sat lion the road and she handed him his tools.

So that was the story of the Rayleys, Lilysmiled. She imagined herself telling it to Mrs.268