TO THE LIGHTHOUSE

Indeed, he almost knocked her easel over,
coming down upon her with his hands waving,
shouting out " Boldly we rode and well ", but5
mercifully, he turned sharp, and rode off, to die
gloriously she supposed upon the heights of
Balaclava. Never was anybody at once so ridicu-
lous and so alarming. But so long as he kept like
that, waving, shouting, she was safe; he would
not stand still and look at her picture. And that
was what Lily Briscoe could not have endured.
Even while she looked at the mass, at the line, at
the colour, at Mrs. Ramsay sitting in the window
with James, she kept a feeler on her surroundings
lest someone should creep up, and suddenly she
should find her picture looked at. But now, with
all* her senses quickened as they were, looking,
straining, till the colour of the wall and the
jacmanna beyond burnt into her eyes, she was
aware of someone coming out of the house,
coming towards her; but somehow divined, from
the footfall, William Bankes, so that though her
brush quivered, she did not, as she would have
done had it been Mr, Tansley, Paul Rayley,
Minta Doyle, or practically anybody else, turn
her canvas upon, the grass, but let it stand,
William Bankes stwd beside her.