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(16)ruined quite. But people should come themselves; they shouldhave sent somebody down to see. For there were clothes in thecupboards; they had left clothes in all the bedrooms. Whatwas she to do with them? They had the moth in them - Mrs.Ramsay's things. Poor lady! She would never want them again.She was dead they said; years ago, in London. There was theold grey cloak she wore gardening (Mrs. McNab fingered it).She could see her,as she came up the drive with the washing,stooping over her flowers (the garden was a pitiful sight now,all run to riot, and rabbits scuttling at you out of the beds) -she could see her with one of the children by her, in that greycloak. There were boots and shoes there, and a brush and combleft on the dressing table for all the world as if she expectedto combe back to-morrow. (She had died very sudden at the end,they said.) And once they had been coming, but had put offcoming, what with the war, and travel being so difficult thesedays; they had never come all these years; just sent her money;but never wrote, never came and expected to find things as theyhad left them, ah dear! Why the fedressing table drawers werefull of things (she pulled them open) handkerchiefs, bits ofribbon. Yes, she could see Mrs. Ramsay as she came up thedrive with the washing.

"Good evening, Mrs. McNab," she would say.

She had a pleasant way with her. The girls all liked her.But dear, many things had changed since then (she shut the drawer);many families had lost their dearest. So she was dead; and Mr.