TO THE LIGHTHOUSEresolve to live again, had been stirred by pity. Andit was not true, Lily thought; it was one of thosemisjudgments of hers that seemed to be instinctiveand to arise from some need of her own rather thanof other people's. He is not in the least pitiable. Hehas his work, Lily said to herself. She remembered,all of a sudden as if she had found a treasure, thatshe had her work. In a flash she saw her picture,and thought, Yes, I shall put the tree further in themiddle; then I shall avoid that awkward space.That's what I shall do. That's what has beenpuzzling me. She took up the salt cellar and put itdown again on a flower in pattern in the table-cloth,so as to remind herself to move the tree.

"It's odd that one scarcely gets anything worthhaving by post, yet one always wants one's letters,"said Mr. Bankes.

What damned rot they talk, thought CharlesTansley, laying down his spoon precisely in themiddle of his plate, which he had swept clean, as if,Lily thought (he sat opposite to her with his backto the window precisely in the middle of view), hewere determined to make sure of his meals. Every-thing about him had that meagre fixity, that bareunloveliness. But nevertheless, the fact remained,it was almost impossible to dislike any one if one128
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