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A dimlittle figure, of a lady in a grey cloak, bending down among white
flowers on a summer's night, & evening appeared here (at her
& here & here as Mrs. Macnab went, [?]as by the open drawer of
by the washstand, by the cupboard as Mrs. Macnab went did
the bedroom – It was more like an image seen through a rather
feeble telescope; it was cut out like that – a lady in a grey cloak -
without any much feeling to it else, save some queer pleasure, rising in
Mrs. Macnab's old Maggie's brain to think of herself going up
the drive to have her tea perhaps in the kitchen on a
summer's evening when everything was things were better than they
are now. She sighed – she moaned. The little picture
the ghost which who had come back to the bedroom , like a
for a moment to waver across the wall & like a momentary
sunbeam on a cloudy day vanished80. Old Maggie saw nothing: at all.81
Compared with everything else there – the mahogany chest of
drawers – the brass bedstead – the ghost which old
Maggie had82 saw only the
 chest of drawers
 & the brass
 bedstead
 which needed
 polishing.
Such was the fate of that [?]w ghost.
  They survived. The Pleasant ghosts – & she had had a way
with her, Mrs. Ramsay, – would not could not alter those;
could not stay. It was only by fits & starts one got the
thought of them. A la Stooping among her flowers – old
Maggie couldmight say it herself, but but her old crazed
wits were flitting off elsewhere; The There was
too much here to do for one person – woman – to do.
too much – too much.
  So, when she had gone, ill temperedly banging the doors,
& forgetting her flowers, the house seemed like a
shell deserted of life, & given over to moulder on a sandhill.

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