TO THE LIGHTHOUSEand without knowing what it was she benttowards it and greeted it. She kept looking atMinta, shyly, yet curiously, so that Mrs. Ramsaylooked from one to the other and said, speakingto Prue in her own mind, You will be as happy asshe is one of these days. You will be muchhappier, she added, because you are my daughter,she meant; her own daughter must be happierthan other people’s daughters. But dinner wasover. It was time to go. They were onlyplaying with things on their plates. She wouldwait until they had done laughing at some storyher husband was telling. He was having a jokewith Minta about a bet. Then she would get up.

She liked Charles Tansley she thought, sud-denly,;she liked his laugh. She liked him forbeing so angry with Paul and Minta. She likedhis awkwardness. There was a lot in that youngman after all. And Lily, she thought, puttingher napkin beside her plate, she always has somejoke of her own. One need never bother aboutoutsetgal43Lily. She waited. She HB: Circled in pencil  tucked her napkin underthe edge of her plate. Well, were they done now?No. That story had led to another story. He[H over h]VW: Capital “H” written over a lowercase “h” erhusbandwas in great spirits to-night, and wishing, shesupposed, to make it all right with old Augustusafter that scene about the soup, had drawn himin—they were telling stories about some one they170
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