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TO THE LIGHTHOUSEand there were little antelopes, and her eyes wereopening and shutting, and Mrs. Ramsay went on say-ing still more monotonously, and more rhythmicallyand more nonsensically, how she must shut her eyesand go to sleep and dream of mountains and valleysand stars falling and parrots and antelopes and gar-dens, and everything lovely, she said, raising her headvery slowly and speaking more and more mechanically,until she sat upright and saw that Cam was asleep.

Now, she whispered, crossing over to his bed, Jamesmust go to sleep too, for see, she said, the boar’s skullwas still there; they had not touched it; they had donejust what he wanted; it was there quite unhurt. Hemade sure that the skull was still there under the shawl.But he wanted to ask her something more. Would theygo to the Lighthouse to-morrow?

No, not to-morrow, she said, but soon, she promisedhim; the next fine day. He was very good. He laydown. She covered him up. But he would never forget,she knew, and she felt angry with Charles Tansley,with her husband, and with herself, for she had raisedhis hopes. Then feeling for her shawl and remember-ing that she had wrapped it round the boar’s skullshe got up, and pulled the window down another inchor two, and heard the wind, and got a breath of theperfectly indifferent chill night air and murmuredgood-night to Mildred and left the room and let thetongue of the door slowly lengthen in the lock andwent out.

She hoped he would not bang his books on thefloor above their heads, she thought, still thinking how

annoying Charles Tansley was. For neither of them

slept well; they were excitable children, and since he