Chapter 7

           Buthissonhatedhim.Hehatedhimforcominguptothem,forstoppingandlookingdownonthem;hehatedhimforinterruptingthem;hehatedhimfortheexaltationandsublimityofhisgestures;forthemagnificenceofhishead;forhisexactingnessandegotism(fortherehestood,commandingthemtoattendtohim)butmostofallhehatedthetwangandtwitterofhisfather’semotionwhich,vibratingroundthem,disturbedtheperfectsimplicityandgoodsenseofhisrelationswithhismother.Bylookingfixedlyatthepage,hehopedtomakehimmoveon;bypointinghisfingerataword,hehopedtorecallhismother’sattention,which,heknewangrily,waveredinstantlyhisfatherstopped.But,no.NothingwouldmakeMr.Ramsaymoveon.Therehestood,demandingsympathy.

           Mrs.Ramsay,whohadbeensittingloosely,foldinghersoninherarm,bracedherself,and,halfturning,seemedtoraiseherselfwithaneffort,andatoncetopourerectintotheairarainofenergy,acolumnofspray,lookingatthesametimeanimatedandaliveasifallherenergieswerebeingfusedintoforce,burningandilluminating(quietlythoughshesat,takingupherstockingagain),andintothisdeliciousfecundity,thisfountainandsprayoflife,thefatalsterilityofthemaleplungeditself,likeabeakofbrass,barrenandbare.Hewantedsympathy.Hewasafailure,hesaid.Mrs.Ramsayflashedherneedles.Mr.Ramsayrepeated,nevertakinghiseyesfromherface,thathewasafailure.Sheblewthewordsbackathim."CharlesTansley..."shesaid.

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