For some yards before reaching the Hilberys’ door he
walked in a trance of pleasure； but when he reached it；
and pushed the gate of the little garden open； he hesitated。
He did not know what to do next。 There was no
hurry； however； for the outside of the house held pleasure
enough to last him some time longer。 He crossed the
road； and leant against the balustrade of the Embankment；
fixing his eyes upon the house。
Lights burnt in the three long windows of the drawing
room。 The space of the room behind became； in Ralph’s
vision； the center of the dark； flying wilderness of the
world； the justification for the welter of confusion surrounding
it； the steady light which cast its beams； like
those of a lighthouse； with searching posure over the
trackless waste。 In this little sanctuary were gathered
together several different people； but their identity was
dissolved in a general glory of something that might；
perhaps； be called civilization； at any rate； all dryness；
343
Night and Day
all safety； all that stood up above the surge and preserved
a consciousness of its own； was centered in the
drawingroom of the Hilberys。 Its purpose was beneficent；
and yet so far above his level as to have something
austere about it； a light that cast itself out and yet kept
itself aloof。 Then he began； in his mind； to distinguish
different individuals within； consciously refusing as yet
to attack the figure of Katharine。 His thoughts lingered
over Mrs。 Hilbery and Cassandra； and then he turned to
Rodney and Mr。 Hilbery。 Physically； he saw them bathed
in that steady flow of yellow light which filled the long
oblongs of the windows； in their movements they were
beautiful； and in their speech he figured a reserve of
meaning； unspoken； but understood。 At length； after all
this halfconscious selection and arrangement； he allowed
himself to approach the figure of Katharine herself； and
instantly the scene was flooded with excitement。 He did
not see her in the body； he seemed curiously to see her
as a shape of light； the light itself； he seemed； simplified
and exhausted as he was； to be like one of those lost
birds fascinated by the lighthouse and held to the glass
by the splendor of the blaze。
These thoughts drove him to tramp a beat up and down
the pavement before the Hilberys’ gate。 He did not trouble
himself to make any plans for the future。 Something of
an unknown kind would decide both the ing year and
the ing hour。 Now and again； in his vigil； he sought
the light in the long windows； or glanced at the ray which
gilded a few leaves and a few blades of grass in the little
garden。 For a long time the light burnt without changing。
He had just reached the limit of his beat and was
turning； when the front door opened； and the aspect of
the house was entirely changed。 A black figure came down
the little pathway and paused at the gate。 Denham understood
instantly that it was Rodney。 Without hesitation；
and conscious only of a great friendliness for any
one ing from that lighted room； he walked straight
up to him and stopped him。 In the flurry of the wind
Rodney was taken aback； and for the moment tried to
press on； muttering something； as if he suspected a demand
upon his charity。
“Goodness； Denham； what are you doing here？” he ex
344
Virginia Woolf
claimed； recognizing him。
Ralph mumbled something about being on his way home。
They walked on together； though Rodney walked quick
enough to make it plain that he had no wish for pany。
He was very unhappy。 That afternoon Cassandra had
repulsed him； he had tried to explain to her the difficulties
of the situation； and to suggest the nature of his
feelings for her without saying anything definite or anything
offensive to her。 But he had lost his head； under
the goad of Katharine’s ridicule he had said too much；
and Cassandra； superb in her dignity and severity； had
refused to hear another word； and threatened an immediate
return to her home。 His agitation； after an evening
spent between the two women； was extreme。 Moreover；
he could not help suspecting that Ralph was wandering
near the Hilberys’ house； at this hour； for reasons connected
with Katharine。 There was probably some understanding
between them—not that anything of the kind
mattered to him now。 He was convinced that he had never
cared for any one save Cassandra； and Katharine’s future
was no concern of his。 Aloud； he said； shortly； that he
was very tired and wished to find a cab。 But on Sunday
night； on the Embankment； cabs were hard to e by；
and Rodney found himself constrained to walk some distance；
at any rate； in Denham’s pany。 Denham maintained
his silence。 Rodney’s irritation lapsed。 He found
the silence oddly suggestive of the good masculine qualities
which he much respected； and had at this moment
great reason to need。 After the mystery； difficulty； and
uncertainty of dealing with the other sex； intercourse
with one’s own is apt to have a posing and even
ennobling influence； since plain speaking is possible and
subterfuges of no avail。 Rodney； too； was much in need
of a confidant； Katharine； despite her promises of help；
had failed him at the critical moment； she had gone off
with Denham； she was； perhaps； tormenting Denham as
she had tormented him。 How grave and stable he seemed；
speaking little； and walking firmly； pared with what
Rodney knew of his own torments and indecisions！ He
began to cast about for some way of telling the story of
his relations with Katharine and Cassandra that would
not lower him in Denham’s eyes。 It then occurred to him
345
Night and Day
that； perhaps； Katharine herself had confided in Denham；
they had something in mon； it was likely that they
had discussed him that very afternoon。 The desire to discover
what they had said of him now came uppermost in
his mind。 He recalled Katharine’s laugh； he remembered
that she had gone； laughing； to walk with Denham。
“Did you stay long after we’d left？” he asked abruptly。
“No。 We went back to my house。”
This seemed to confirm Rodney’s belief that he had
been discussed。 He turned over the unpalatable idea for
a while； in silence。
“Women are inprehensible creatures； Denham！” he
then exclaimed。
“Um；” said Denham； who seemed to himself possessed
of plete understanding； not merely of women； but of
the entire universe。 He could read Rodney； too； like a
book。 He knew that he was unhappy； and he pitied him；
and wished to help him。
“You say something and they—fly into a passion。 Or
for no reason at all； they laugh。 I take it that no amount
of education will—” The remainder of the sentence was
lost in the high wind； against which they had to struggle；
but Denham understood that he referred to Katharine’s
laughter； and that the memory of it was still hurting him。
In parison with Rodney； Denham felt himself very
secure； he saw Rodney as one of the lost birds dashed
senseless against the glass； one of the flying bodies of
which the air was full。 B