TO THE LIGHTHOUSElaughed; her husband laughed; she was laughed at,fire-encircled, and forced to veil her crest, dismounther batteries, and only retaliate by displaying theraillery and ridicule of the table to Mr. Bankesas an example of what one suffered if one attackedthe prejudices of the British Public.

Purposely, however, for she had it on her mindthat Lily, who had helped her with Mr. Tansley, wasout of things, she exempted her from the rest; said"Lily anyhow agrees with me," and so drew her in,a little fluttered, a little startled. (For she was think-ing about love.) They were both out of things, Mrs.Ramsay had been thinking, both Lily and CharlesTansley. Both suffered from the glow of the othertwo. He, it was clear, felt himself utterly in thecold; no woman would look at him with Paul Rayleyin the room. Poor fellow! Still, he had his disserta-tion, the influence of somebody upon something: hecould take care of himself. With Lily it was differ-ent. She faded, under Minta’s glow; became moreinconspicuous than ever, in her little grey dresswith her little puckered face and her little Chineseeyes. Everything about her was so small. Yet,thought Mrs. Ramsay, comparing her with Minta,as she claimed her help (for Lily should bear herout she talked no more about her dairies thanher husband did about his boots—he would talk156
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