THE WINDOWman. (Parenthesis is penciled in and my correspond to the mark in line 10 or it could be a stray mark). There was always a chance. At anymoment the leader might arise; the man ofgenius, in politics as in anything else. Probablyhe will be extremely disagreeable to us old fogies,thought Mr. Bankes, doing his best to makeallowances, for he knew by some curious physicalsensation, as of nerves erect in his spine, that hewas jealous, for himself partly, partly moreprobably for his work, for his point of view, forstart HB Pencilhis Pencil marker with line to margin science; and therefore he was not entirelyopen-minded or altogether fair, for Mr. Tansleyseemed to be saying, You have wasted your lives.You are all of you wrong. Poor old fogies, you’rehopelessly behind the times. He seemed to berather cocksure, this young man; and hismanners were bad. But Mr. Bankes bade him-self observe, he had courage; he had ability; hewas extremely well up in the facts. Probably,Mr. Bankes thought, as Tansley abused thegovernment, there is a good deal in what he says.

“Tell me now . . ." he said. So they arguedabout politics, and Lily looked at the leaf on thetable-cloth; and Mrs. Ramsay, leaving the argu-ment entirely in the hands of the two men,wondered why she was so bored by this man,talkandwished, looking at her husband at the other endof the table, that he would say something. Oneword, she said to herself. For if he said a thing,147
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