TO THE LIGHTHOUSE

He was bearing down upon them. Now he stoppeddead and stood looking at the sea. Now he had turnedaway again.9Yes, Mr. Bankes said, watching him go. It was athousand pities. (Lily had said something about hisfrightening her — he changed from one mood toanother so suddenly.) Yes, said Mr. Bankes, it wasa thousand pities that Ramsay could not behave alittle more like other people. (For he liked Lily Bris-coe; he could discuss Ramsay with her quite openly.)It was for that reason, he said, that the young don’tread Carlyle. A crusty old grumbler who lost histemper if the porridge was cold, why should he preachto us? was what Mr. Bankes understood that youngpeople said nowadays. It was a thousand pities ifyou thought, as he did, that Carlyle was one of thegreat teachers of mankind. Lily was ashamed to saythat she had not read Carlyle since she was at school.But in her opinion one liked Mr. Ramsay all the bet-ter for thinking that if his little finger ached the wholeworld must come to an end. It was not that she mind-ed. For who could be deceived by him? He asked youquite openly to flatter him, to admire him, his littledodges deceived nobody. What she disliked was hisnarrowness, his blindness, she said, looking after him.

‘A bit of a hypocrite?’ Mr. Bankes suggested, look-ing, too, at Mr. Ramsay’s back, for was he not think-ing of his friendship, and of Cam refusing to give hima flower, and of all those boys and girls, and his ownhouse, full of comfort, but since his wife’s death, quietrather? Of course, he had his work . . . . All the same,56
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