197125YesHe lik wished to go there, said Mr. Ramsay, for in the old days his wifesent them things. The poor There was one poor boy in particular, thekeeper's son, with a tuberculous hip.

Any woman in the whole world would be feeling pity &thought Lily: & all she felt was know what to say thought Lilyyet all she wished was that this enormous flood of grief, thisinsatiable hunger for sympathy, this great man whowas, she felt certain, mysteriously connected with thethis nobility this incorruptible integrity should go, should leave her;(he was a greatphilosophershe toldherself)should not sweep her off her feet in the gale of his sighs. Butanother came.

They did not mind how Such expeditions exhaustedvery& exhausting he added,were painful, were exhausting, said Mr. Ramsay, lookingtowards the house, as if he while hetoleratedwhere, Lily hoped, C James & Cam were hastily swallowingbreakfast, for she could not sustain this enormousweight of grief & sorrow & regret & something & all thedraperies of age (he looked to her extraordinarily old, ?unkewhite, tragic) a moment longer.[?longing] as it was

Wherever he looked he sighed; Mr. even old Mr. Carmichael,benevolently peering at them over the top of a novel, peeringbut with eyes too mild, at a distance too serene & remoteto take part in this glut of grief, this only seemedto suggest only some sad reflection - yet Lily knew,worked ?freelythere would never be a word of this in masculine society; could shemagically transport the huge old man lying in the wickerchair to alongside them, & so dam this effusion whichrocked her up & down on its tide; for, she knew, nowith a man a man sighed like that to men. All thisbelonged to the secret chamber, which she so much dreaded, ofwomen's& shattered.Yes It can [?forgive]her, even thisdid notawake herpity)toodiscreetthat hewasunfortunatelystrangely?incongruouslyalive still;no
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