258301So perhaps, when she thought of Mrs. Ramsay she was out, too.?way thereBeauty was aTo see her one needed twenty dozen pairs of eyesknowat least. Even so, how or perhaps it would be better to shut onesOne wanted most some secret ins sense, very sensitive, fine as air, [?]so thatit wouldpassthroughwhich stealing through the keyholes; some long tongue of infinitestoleinelasticity & sensibility which couldelastiwhich to surround her as she sat knitting or reading withwherean atmosphere which took into itself & imparted all thecaught upgatheredup into itstexture theglitteringparticles -(Lily had seenher look upon ?onceto ?it)?imaginations; that went through her mind: what the wallallmeant to her, & the colour & the window: the sound of thewaves breaking.What b solitary beach did they notbreak upon in her consciousness? And then to knowwhat stirred & trembled when the children cried, cricketing,

How's that? How's that?, to feel the firsttremor of laughter, & find its origin; & to be sure whatcliffs of cut cliffs, or boundaries, be aware, seriously& con how the whole vista of her mind had in it certainmarks or & what those grave outlines were, whichpresumablystood sentinel over the come & go of hersensations mind at work? All that she thought in solitudeWhy did she, after all,And then how was one tore capture anythingwhen he Mr. Ramsay passed.What a trail of curious feeling went through the whole of her,&sometimes seemed to rock her in profound agitationupon its breast; when he spoke, severely to James; orHe had only to speak one word, or onceshecouldremembersaid nothing even;as if now & again the presence of herhusband was enough toto stoop & give her his hand up out of achair & suddenly, Lily thought,she understood, withhow they had once when they were both young,shehadthought to herself (adored & courted as she must have been) surely
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