THE WINDOWrelieved to find that the ruin was veiled; domes-ticity triumphed; custom croon edits soothinggal12rhythm, so that when HB: black pencil indicating galley 12. —saraheilefson stopping deliberately, as histurn came round again, at the window he bentquizzically and whimsically to tickle James’s barecalf with a sprig of something, she twitted him forhaving dispatched "that poor young man",Charles Tansley. Tansley had had to go in andwrite his dissertation, he said.

“James will have to write his dissertation oneof these days," he added ironically, twistingflickinghissprig.

Hating his father, James flickedflickbrushedVW: Line from brushed to flicked. —saraheilefsonaway thetickling spray with which in a manner peculiar tohim, compound of severity and humour, he teasedhis youngest son’s bare leg.

She was trying to get these tiresome stockingsfinished to send to Sorley's little boy to-morrow,said Mrs. Ramsay.outsetgal 12HB: pencil. —saraheilefson

There HB: This and next paragraph circled in pencil. wasn’t the slightest possible chancethat they could go to the Lighthouse to-morrow,Mr. Ramsay snapped out irascibly.

How did he know? she asked. The wind oftenchanged.

The extraordinary irrationality of her remark[∧], / thefolly ofwomen’smindsenraged him. He had ridden through the valleyof death, been shattered and shivered; and now,always exaggerating,[%]she flew in the face of facts,53
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