“To want and not to have, sent all up her body a hardness, a hollowness, a strain. And then to want and not to have--to want and want--how that wrung the heart, and wrung it again and again! Oh, Mrs. Ramsay! she called out silently, and to that essence which sat by the boat, that abstract one made of her, that woman in grey, as if to abuse her for having gone, and then having gone, come back again. It had seemed so safe, thinking of her. Ghost, air, nothingness, a thing you could play with easily and safely at any time of day or night, she had been that, and then suddenly she put her hand out and wrung the heart thus.”