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THE WINDOWdiscreetly as they passed, took the greatest pains; firstthey mixed their own colours, and then they groundthem, and then they put damp cloths on them tokeep them moist.

So Mr. Tansley supposed she meant him to see thatthat man’s picture was skimpy, was that what onesaid? The colours weren’t solid? Was that what onesaid? Under the influence of that extraordinary emo-tion which had been growing all the walk, had begunin the garden when he had wanted to take her bag,had increased in the town when he had wanted to tellher everything about himself, he was coming to seehimself and everything he had ever known gone crook-ed a little. It was awfully strange.

There he stood in the parlour of the poky little housewhere she had taken him, waiting for her, while shewent upstairs a moment to see a woman. He heardher quick step above; heard her voice cheerful, thenlow; looked at the mats, tea-caddies, glass shades;waited quite impatiently; looked forward eagerly tothe walk home, determined to carry her bag; thenheard her come out; shut a door; say they must keepthe windows open and the doors shut, ask at the housefor anything they wanted (she must be talking to achild), when, suddenly, in she came, stood for a mo-ment silent (as if she had been pretending up there,and for a moment let herself be now), stood quite mo-tionless for a moment against a picture of Queen Vic-toria wearing the blue ribbon of the Garter; and allat once he realised that it was this: it was this: — shewas the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

With stars in her eyes and veils in her hair, withcyclamen and wild violets — what nonsense was he19