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- Вирджиния Вульф
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He
seemed
to
be
rather
cocksure
,
this
young
man
;
and
his
manners
were
bad
.
But
Mr.
Bankes
bade
himself
observe
,
he
had
courage
;
he
had
ability
;
he
was
extremely
well
up
in
the
facts
.
Probably
,
Mr.
Bankes
thought
,
as
Tansley
abused
the
government
,
there
is
a
good
deal
in
what
he
says
.
"
Tell
me
now
...
"
he
said
.
So
they
argued
about
politics
,
and
Lily
looked
at
the
leaf
on
the
table-cloth
;
and
Mrs.
Ramsay
,
leaving
the
argument
entirely
in
the
hands
of
the
two
men
,
wondered
why
she
was
so
bored
by
this
talk
,
and
wished
,
looking
at
her
husband
at
the
other
end
of
the
table
,
that
he
would
say
something
.
One
word
,
she
said
to
herself
.
For
if
he
said
a
thing
,
it
would
make
all
the
difference
.
He
went
to
the
heart
of
things
.
He
cared
about
fishermen
and
their
wages
.
He
could
not
sleep
for
thinking
of
them
.
It
was
altogether
different
when
he
spoke
;
one
did
not
feel
then
,
pray
heaven
you
do
n't
see
how
little
I
care
,
because
one
did
care
.
Then
,
realising
that
it
was
because
she
admired
him
so
much
that
she
was
waiting
for
him
to
speak
,
she
felt
as
if
somebody
had
been
praising
her
husband
to
her
and
their
marriage
,
and
she
glowed
all
over
without
realising
that
it
was
she
herself
who
had
praised
him
.
She
looked
at
him
thinking
to
find
this
in
his
face
;
he
would
be
looking
magnificent
...
But
not
in
the
least
!
He
was
screwing
his
face
up
,
he
was
scowling
and
frowning
,
and
flushing
with
anger
.
What
on
earth
was
it
about
?
she
wondered
.
What
could
be
the
matter
?
Only
that
poor
old
Augustus
had
asked
for
another
plate
of
soup
--
that
was
all
.
It
was
unthinkable
,
it
was
detestable
(
so
he
signalled
to
her
across
the
table
)
that
Augustus
should
be
beginning
his
soup
over
again
.
He
loathed
people
eating
when
he
had
finished
.
She
saw
his
anger
fly
like
a
pack
of
hounds
into
his
eyes
,
his
brow
,
and
she
knew
that
in
a
moment
something
violent
would
explode
,
and
then
--
thank
goodness
!
she
saw
him
clutch
himself
and
clap
a
brake
on
the
wheel
,
and
the
whole
of
his
body
seemed
to
emit
sparks
but
not
words
.
He
sat
there
scowling
.
He
had
said
nothing
,
he
would
have
her
observe
.
Let
her
give
him
the
credit
for
that
!
But
why
after
all
should
poor
Augustus
not
ask
for
another
plate
of
soup
?
He
had
merely
touched
Ellen
's
arm
and
said
:
"
Ellen
,
please
,
another
plate
of
soup
,
"
and
then
Mr.
Ramsay
scowled
like
that
.
And
why
not
?
Mrs.
Ramsay
demanded
.
Surely
they
could
let
Augustus
have
his
soup
if
he
wanted
it
.
He
hated
people
wallowing
in
food
,
Mr.
Ramsay
frowned
at
her
.
He
hated
everything
dragging
on
for
hours
like
this
.
But
he
had
controlled
himself
,
Mr.
Ramsay
would
have
her
observe
,
disgusting
though
the
sight
was
.
But
why
show
it
so
plainly
,
Mrs.
Ramsay
demanded
(
they
looked
at
each
other
down
the
long
table
sending
these
questions
and
answers
across
,
each
knowing
exactly
what
the
other
felt
)
.
Everybody
could
see
,
Mrs.
Ramsay
thought
.
There
was
Rose
gazing
at
her
father
,
there
was
Roger
gazing
at
his
father
;
both
would
be
off
in
spasms
of
laughter
in
another
second
,
she
knew
,
and
so
she
said
promptly
(
indeed
it
was
time
)
:
"
Light
the
candles
,
"
and
they
jumped
up
instantly
and
went
and
fumbled
at
the
sideboard
.
Why
could
he
never
conceal
his
feelings
?
Mrs.
Ramsay
wondered
,
and
she
wondered
if
Augustus
Carmichael
had
noticed
.
Perhaps
he
had
;
perhaps
he
had
not
.
She
could
not
help
respecting
the
composure
with
which
he
sat
there
,
drinking
his
soup
.
If
he
wanted
soup
,
he
asked
for
soup
.
Whether
people
laughed
at
him
or
were
angry
with
him
he
was
the
same
.
He
did
not
like
her
,
she
knew
that
;
but
partly
for
that
very
reason
she
respected
him
,
and
looking
at
him
,
drinking
soup
,
very
large
and
calm
in
the
failing
light
,
and
monumental
,
and
contemplative
,
she
wondered
what
he
did
feel
then
,
and
why
he
was
always
content
and
dignified
;
and
she
thought
how
devoted
he
was
to
Andrew
,
and
would
call
him
into
his
room
,
and
Andrew
said
,
"
show
him
things
.
"
And
there
he
would
lie
all
day
long
on
the
lawn
brooding
presumably
over
his
poetry
,
till
he
reminded
one
of
a
cat
watching
birds
,
and
then
he
clapped
his
paws
together
when
he
had
found
the
word
,
and
her
husband
said
,
"
Poor
old
Augustus
--
he
's
a
true
poet
,
"
which
was
high
praise
from
her
husband
.
Now
eight
candles
were
stood
down
the
table
,
and
after
the
first
stoop
the
flames
stood
upright
and
drew
with
them
into
visibility
the
long
table
entire
,
and
in
the
middle
a
yellow
and
purple
dish
of
fruit
.
What
had
she
done
with
it
,
Mrs.
Ramsay
wondered
,
for
Rose
's
arrangement
of
the
grapes
and
pears
,
of
the
horny
pink-lined
shell
,
of
the
bananas
,
made
her
think
of
a
trophy
fetched
from
the
bottom
of
the
sea
,
of
Neptune
's
banquet
,
of
the
bunch
that
hangs
with
vine
leaves
over
the
shoulder
of
Bacchus
(
in
some
picture
)
,
among
the
leopard
skins
and
the
torches
lolloping
red
and
gold
...
Thus
brought
up
suddenly
into
the
light
it
seemed
possessed
of
great
size
and
depth
,
was
like
a
world
in
which
one
could
take
one
's
staff
and
climb
hills
,
she
thought
,
and
go
down
into
valleys
,
and
to
her
pleasure
(
for
it
brought
them
into
sympathy
momentarily
)
she
saw
that
Augustus
too
feasted
his
eyes
on
the
same
plate
of
fruit
,
plunged
in
,
broke
off
a
bloom
there
,
a
tassel
here
,
and
returned
,
after
feasting
,
to
his
hive
.
That
was
his
way
of
looking
,
different
from
hers
.
But
looking
together
united
them
.
Now
all
the
candles
were
lit
up
,
and
the
faces
on
both
sides
of
the
table
were
brought
nearer
by
the
candle
light
,
and
composed
,
as
they
had
not
been
in
the
twilight
,
into
a
party
round
a
table
,
for
the
night
was
now
shut
off
by
panes
of
glass
,
which
,
far
from
giving
any
accurate
view
of
the
outside
world
,
rippled
it
so
strangely
that
here
,
inside
the
room
,
seemed
to
be
order
and
dry
land
;
there
,
outside
,
a
reflection
in
which
things
waved
and
vanished
,
waterily
.
