273as if her own weariness which was so visible came from pity; & thelife in her were stirred by pity. And it was not true, Lily thought.But then Mr. Bankes was perfectly happy she was sure. Hehad his work.But then Lily felt every that everyone wasvery sure:Lily felt, The wonderfulthing about life is this:mayhow one thinks its like this: when, as a matter of fact,it is not like this: I now know where I shall put the light theretree rather further over; & so to the middle: Then I shallavoid that break, which is I'm sure now, what was puzzling me [?] ?sureShe would do that first thing next morning. AndneverHow seldom one gets anything by the post that isreally worth having said Mr. Bankes.Yet Yet one alwayswants lett one's letters, said Mr. Bankes.that isHeWatBut What rot they talked, what rot,thought Charles Tansley who had laying down his spooncleanedin the middle of his plate precisely, having eaten swept itperfectly [?] bare.wasdetermined tomakeas if, Lily thought, (he was preciselyopposite her) he was made sure of his meals; as if heof any sorthad not an ounce of generosity over.There he would sit,in his pepper & salt coat & grey flannel trousers, eating hisall& [?]allwhichway through the meal like a cockchafer;bristly, ?packingnow;And Mrs. Ramsay would pity him: she pitied men, always;never women.StillPoor Charles Tansley - that wasprecisely what Mrs. Ramsay was thinking. Poor litt little manFor He was not a gentleman:No. Charles Tansley wasthinking how he could never ?say ?thing about like thatNo.He hadno convnothing to say.He was uneasy.What could she sayto make him feel easy?Did you notice the lovelylightButWell, he would not be made easy;he would not talknonsense, Charles Tansley thought.He would not talk nonsense.For having finished the second volume ofSorel's history of theFrench Revolution, & sandwiched in a chapter of Meredith,(this was more than he had bargained for, too)Charlesin the ?worldTansleywas rather up inhisown estimation;hadthatnot?envious oflacking small talk wasany drawback.