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TO THE LIGHTHOUSElawn, when solidity suddenly vanished, and such vastspaces lay between them; and now the same effectwas got by the many candles in the sparely furnishedroom, and the uncurtained windows, and the brightmask-like look of faces seen by candlelight. Some weightwas taken off them; anything might happen, she felt.They must come now, Mrs. Ramsay thought, lookingat the door, and at that instant, Minta Doyle, PaulRayley, and a maid carrying a great dish in her handscame in together. They were awfully late; they werehorribly late, Minta said, as they found their way todifferent ends of the table.

‘I lost my brooch — my grandmother’s brooch,’ saidMinta with a sound of lamentation in her voice, anda suffusion in her large brown eyes, looking down,looking up, as she sat by Mr. Ramsay, which rousedhis chivalry so that he bantered her.

How could she be such a goose, he asked, as toscramble about the rocks in jewels?

She was by way of being terrified of him — he wasso fearfully clever, and the first night when she hadsat by him, and he talked about George Eliot, shehad been really frightened, for she had left the thirdvolume of Middlemarch in the train and she never knewwhat happened in the end; but afterwards she goton perfectly, and made herself out even more ignorantthan she was, because he liked telling her she wasa fool. And so to-night, directly he laughed at her,she was not frightened. Besides, she knew, directlyshe came into the room, that the miracle had hap-pened; she wore her golden haze. Sometimes she hadit; sometimes not. She never knew why it came orwhy it went, or if she had it until she came into the116