На маяк. Уровень 3 / To the Lighthouse

It was about the influence of somebody upon something.

“Well, it’s all he has to count on,” said Mr. Ramsay.

“Pray Heaven he won’t fall in love with Prue,” said Mrs. Ramsay.

“He’ll disinherit her if she marries him,” said Mr. Ramsay.

He did not look at the flowers, which his wife was considering.

“There is no harm in him,” he added.

He was just about to say that anyhow he was the only young man in England who admired his – when he stopped. He did not want to bother her again about his books.

“These flowers seem creditable,” Mr. Ramsay said.

He lowered his gaze and noticed something red, something brown.

“Yes, I put in these flowers with my own hands,” said Mrs. Ramsay.

The question was, what happened if she sent bulbs down; did Kennedy plant them? It was his incurable laziness; she added.

So they strolled along, towards the red-hot pokers.

“You’re teaching your daughters to exaggerate,” said Mr. Ramsay.

Her Aunt Camilla was far worse than she was, Mrs.

“Nobody ever saw your Aunt Camilla as a model of virtue,” said Mr. Ramsay.

“She was the most beautiful woman I ever saw,” said Mrs. Ramsay.

“Somebody else was that,” said Mr. Ramsay.

Prue was going to be far more beautiful than she was, said Mrs. Ramsay.

He saw no trace of it, said Mr. Ramsay.

“Well, then, look tonight,” said Mrs. Ramsay.

They paused. Andrew must work harder. He will lose every chance of a scholarship if he doesn’t.

“Oh, scholarships!” she said.

Mr. Ramsay thought her foolish for saying that, about a serious thing, like a scholarship.

“I will be very proud of Andrew if he gets a scholarship,” he said.

“And I will be just as proud of him if he doesn’t,” she answered.

They disagreed always about this, but it did not matter. She liked him to believe in scholarships. He liked her to be proud of Andrew whatever he did. Suddenly she remembered those little paths on the edge of the cliffs.

Wasn’t it late? she asked.

They hadn’t come home yet. He looked at his watch. It was only just past seven. He held his watch open for a moment. It was not reasonable to be nervous. Andrew is not a little boy. Then, he wanted to tell her that when he was walking on the terrace just now, – here he became uncomfortable. He felt that solitude, that aloofness, that remoteness of hers. But she pressed him. What did he want to tell her, she asked.