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continued。 “I had meant to ask her to marry me； and
then I looked out of the window and saw you。 After that
I didn’t want to ask any one to marry me。 But I did it； and
she knew I was lying； and refused me。 I thought then；
and still think； that she cares for me。 I behaved very
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Night and Day
badly。 I don’t defend myself。”
“No；” said Katharine； “I should hope not。 There’s no
defence that I can think of。 If any conduct is wrong； that
is。” She spoke with an energy that was directed even
more against herself than against him。 “It seems to me；”
she continued； with the same energy； “that people are
bound to be honest。 There’s no excuse for such behavior。”
She could now see plainly before her eyes the expression
on Mary Datchet’s face。
After a short pause； he said：
“I am not telling you that I am in love with you。 I am
not in love with you。”
“I didn’t think that；” she replied； conscious of some
bewilderment。
“I have not spoken a word to you that I do not mean；”
he added。
“Tell me then what it is that you mean；” she said at
length。
As if obeying a mon instinct； they both stopped
and； bending slightly over the balustrade of the river；
looked into the flowing water。
“You say that we’ve got to be honest；” Ralph began。
“Very well。 I will try to tell you the facts； but I warn you；
you’ll think me mad。 It’s a fact； though； that since I first
saw you four or five months ago I have made you； in an
utterly absurd way； I expect； my ideal。 I’m almost ashamed
to tell you what lengths I’ve gone to。 It’s bee the
thing that matters most in my life。” He checked himself。
“Without knowing you； except that you’re beautiful； and
all that； I’ve e to believe that we’re in some sort of
agreement； that we’re after something together； that we
see something… 。 I’ve got into the habit of imagining
you； I’m always thinking what you’d say or do； I walk
along the street talking to you； I dream of you。 It’s merely
a bad habit； a schoolboy habit； daydreaming； it’s a mon
experience； half one’s friends do the same； well；
those are the facts。”
Simultaneously； they both walked on very slowly。
“If you were to know me you would feel none of this；”
she said。 “We don’t know each other—we’ve always been—
interrupted… 。 Were you going to tell me this that day
my aunts came？” she asked； recollecting the whole scene。
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Virginia Woolf
He bowed his head。
“The day you told me of your engagement；” he said。
She thought； with a start； that she was no longer engaged。
“I deny that I should cease to feel this if I knew you；”
he went on。 “I should feel it more reasonably—that’s all。
I shouldn’t talk the kind of nonsense I’ve talked tonight…
。 But it wasn’t nonsense。 It was the truth；” he said doggedly。
“It’s the important thing。 You can force me to talk
as if this feeling for you were an hallucination； but all
our feelings are that。 The best of them are half illusions。
Still；” he added； as if arguing to himself； “if it weren’t as
real a feeling as I’m capable of； I shouldn’t be changing
my life on your account。”
“What do you mean？” she inquired。
“I told you。 I’m taking a cottage。 I’m giving up my
profession。”
“On my account？” she asked； in amazement。
“Yes； on your account；” he replied。 He explained his
meaning no further。
“But I don’t know you or your circumstances；” she said
at last； as he remained silent。
“You have no opinion about me one way or the other？”
“Yes； I suppose I have an opinion—” she hesitated。
He controlled his wish to ask her to explain herself；
and much to his pleasure she went on； appearing to search
her mind。
“I thought that you criticized me—perhaps disliked me。
I thought of you as a person who judges—”
“No； I’m a person who feels；” he said； in a low voice。
“Tell me； then； what has made you do this？” she asked；
after a break。
He told her in an orderly way； betokening careful preparation；
all that he had meant to say at first； how he stood
with regard to his brothers and sisters； what his mother
had said； and his sister Joan had refrained from saying；
exactly how many pounds stood in his name at the bank；
what prospect his brother had of earning a livelihood in
America； how much of their ine went on rent； and
other details known to him by heart。 She listened to all
this； so that she could have passed an examination in it
by the time Waterloo Bridge was in sight； and yet she
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Night and Day
was no more listening to it than she was counting the
pavingstones at her feet。 She was feeling happier than
she had felt in her life。 If Denham could have seen how
visibly books of algebraic symbols； pages all speckled with
dots and dashes and twisted bars； came before her eyes
as they trod the Embankment； his secret joy in her attention
might have been dispersed。 She went on； saying；
“Yes； I see… 。 But how would that help you？ … Your
brother has passed his examination？” so sensibly； that
he had constantly to keep his brain in check； and all the
time she was in fancy looking up through a telescope at
white shadowcleft disks which were other worlds； until
she felt herself possessed of two bodies； one walking by
the river with Denham； the other concentrated to a silver
globe aloft in the fine blue space above the scum of
vapors that was covering the visible world。 She looked at
the sky once； and saw that no star was keen enough to
pierce the flight of watery clouds now coursing rapidly
before the west wind。 She looked down hurriedly again。
There was no reason； she assured herself； for this feeling
of happiness； she was not free； she was not alone； she
was still bound to earth by a million fibres； every step took
her nearer home。 Nevertheless； she exulted as she had never
exulted before。 The air was fresher； the lights more distinct；
the cold stone of the balustrade colder and harder；
when by chance or purpose she struck her hand against it。
No feelin