295YetShe is one of my oldest friends. I am by way of being devoted to herButhe thought. And yether presence meant nothing to him: her beautyby himselfmeant nothing to him:he wished only to be alone; & sorelieved from the disagreeablenecessity of realisingthat hehad no feeling whatever for his friends:His work was what heto be alone &able to work:wanted. In default of Work being impossible, ?there But he mustsit here, drumming his fingers on the table, & feelinguncomfortable because of his treachery - thathe was notthat he felt nothing for histhat it was allfriendsenjoying himself, able to feel anything:tasteless & insipid;He did not enjoy family life.Andit was in this sort of state that one asked oneself thosesuch questions as - What do we live for? Why do wedesire the continuance of the human race? - questionsone askedoneself,which never occurred normally; but were One never thoughtabout it, if one was occupied. But sometimes one couldnot escape that sort of thing; especially when, as now,the frailty of the whole human relationshipwas 'brought homeIs human lifegood on the whole?or bad?to one; Mrs. Ramsay that Mrs. Ramsay had forgotten Mrs.Carey; that he ?himself felt nothing for Mrs. Ramsay -sitting though he was a few inches from her, &sat a few inches off Mrs. Ramsay, & was indifferent to her.

"I am so sorry" said Mrs. Ramsay who had givingbeeninstructionsof some sort.

Rigid & barren as he felt himself, like a pair of bootswhich had been soaked& gone dry so that you canscarcely force your feetinto them Mr. Bankes bentbentUnless he was carefulinclined his head.ThatShe would now discover&his treachery; unless he were careful; & that would be verypainful, very painful.

How you must regretdining in this beargarden said Mrs. Ramsay:
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