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“Are you cold？” he asked； as they stopped by Temple Bar。
“Yes； I am rather；” she replied； being conscious that
the splendid race of lights drawn past her eyes by the
superb curving and swerving of the monster on which she
sat was at an end。 They had followed some such course in
their thoughts too； they had been borne on； victors in
the forefront of some triumphal car； spectators of a pageant
enacted for them； masters of life。 But standing on
the pavement alone； this exaltation left them； they were
glad to be alone together。 Ralph stood still for a moment
to light his pipe beneath a lamp。
She looked at his face isolated in the little circle of
light。
437
Night and Day
“Oh； that cottage；” she said。 “We must take it and go
there。”
“And leave all this？” he inquired。
“As you like；” she replied。 She thought； looking at the
sky above Chancery Lane； how the roof was the same
everywhere； how she was now secure of all that this lofty
blue and its steadfast lights meant to her； reality； was it；
figures； love； truth？
“I’ve something on my mind；” said Ralph abruptly。 “I
mean I’ve been thinking of Mary Datchet。 We’re very near
her rooms now。 Would you mind if we went there？”
She had turned before she answered him。 She had no
wish to see any one tonight； it seemed to her that the
immense riddle was answered； the problem had been
solved； she held in her hands for one brief moment the
globe which we spend our lives in trying to shape； round；
whole； and entire from the confusion of chaos。 To see
Mary was to risk the destruction of this globe。
“Did you treat her badly？” she asked rather mechanically；
walking on。
“I could defend myself；” he said； almost defiantly。 “But
what’s the use； if one feels a thing？ I won’t be with her a
minute；” he said。 “I’ll just tell her—”
“Of course； you must tell her；” said Katharine； and now
felt anxious for him to do what appeared to be necessary
if he； too； were to hold his globe for a moment round；
whole； and entire。
“I wish—I wish—” she sighed； for melancholy came
over her and obscured at least a section of her clear vision。
The globe swam before her as if obscured by tears。
“I regret nothing；” said Ralph firmly。 She leant towards
him almost as if she could thus see what he saw。 She
thought how obscure he still was to her； save only that
more and more constantly he appeared to her a fire burning
through its smoke； a source of life。
“Go on；” she said。 “You regret nothing—”
“Nothing—nothing；” he repeated。
“What a fire！” she thought to herself。 She thought of
him blazing splendidly in the night； yet so obscure that
to hold his arm； as she held it； was only to touch the
opaque substance surrounding the flame that roared upwards。
438
Virginia Woolf
“Why nothing？” she asked hurriedly； in order that he
might say more and so make more splendid； more red；
more darkly intertwined with smoke this flame rushing
upwards。
“What are you thinking of； Katharine？” he asked suspiciously；
noticing her tone of dreaminess and the inapt
words。
“I was thinking of you—yes； I swear it。 Always of you；
but you take such strange shapes in my mind。 You’ve
destroyed my loneliness。 Am I to tell you how I see you？
No； tell me—tell me from the beginning。”
Beginning with spasmodic words； he went on to speak
more and more fluently； more and more passionately； feeling
her leaning towards him； listening with wonder like a
child； with gratitude like a woman。 She interrupted him
gravely now and then。
“But it was foolish to stand outside and look at the
windows。 Suppose William hadn’t seen you。 Would you
have gone to bed？”
He capped her reproof with wonderment that a woman
of her age could have stood in Kingsway looking at the
traffic until she forgot。
“But it was then I first knew I loved you！” she exclaimed。
“Tell me from the beginning；” he begged her。
“No； I’m a person who can’t tell things；” she pleaded。
“I shall say something ridiculous—something about
flames—fires。 No； I can’t tell you。”
But he persuaded her into a broken statement； beautiful
to him； charged with extreme excitement as she spoke of
the dark red fire； and the smoke twined round it； making
him feel that he had stepped over the threshold into the
faintly lit vastness of another mind； stirring with shapes；
so large； so dim； unveiling themselves only in flashes； and
moving away again into the darkness； engulfed by it。 They
had walked by this time to the street in which Mary lived；
and being engrossed by what they said and partly saw；
passed her staircase without looking up。 At this time of
night there was no traffic and scarcely any footpassengers；
so that they could pace slowly without interruption；
arminarm； raising their hands now and then to draw something
upon the vast blue curtain of the sky。
439
Night and Day
They brought themselves by these means； acting on a
mood of profound happiness； to a state of clearsightedness
where the lifting of a finger had effect； and
one word spoke more than a sentence。 They lapsed gently
into silence； traveling the dark paths of thought side
by side towards something discerned in the distance which
gradually possessed them both。 They were victors； masters
of life； but at the same time absorbed in the flame；
giving their life to increase its brightness； to testify to
their faith。 Thus they had walked； perhaps； twice or three
times up and down Mary Datchet’s street before the recurrence
of a light burning behind a thin； yellow blind
caused them to stop without exactly knowing why they
did so。 It burned itself into their minds。
“That is the light in Mary’s room；” said Ralph。 “She
must be at home。” He pointed across the street。 Katharine’s
eyes rested there too。
“Is she alone； working at this time of night？ What is
she working at？” she wondered。 “Why should we interrupt
her？” she asked passionately。 “What have we got to
give her？ She’s ha