THE WINDOWthe man. 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, thathe was jealous, for himself partly, partly moreprobably for his work, for his point of view, forhis 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 himself 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 argument entirely in the hands of the two men,wondered why she was so bored by this talk, andwished, 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,I4-7

Resize Images  

Select Pane

Berg Materials

View Pane