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Chapter 2

           Wasshenotgoingtosayanything?Didshenotseewhathewantedfromher?ThenhesaidhehadaparticularreasonforwantingtogototheLighthouse.Hiswifeusedtosendthementhings.Therewasapoorboywithatuberculouship,thelightkeeper’sson.Hesighedprofoundly.Hesighedsignificantly.AllLilywishedwasthatthisenormousfloodofgrief,thisinsatiablehungerforsympathy,thisdemandthatsheshouldsurrenderherselfuptohimentirely,andevensohehadsorrowsenoughtokeephersuppliedforever,shouldleaveher,shouldbediverted(shekeptlookingatthehouse,hopingforaninterruption)beforeitsweptherdowninitsflow.

           "Suchexpeditions,"saidMr.Ramsay,scrapingthegroundwithhistoe,"areverypainful."StillLilysaidnothing.(Sheisastock,sheisastone,hesaidtohimself.)"Theyareveryexhausting,"hesaid,looking,withasicklylookthatnauseatedher(hewasacting,shefelt,thisgreatmanwasdramatisinghimself),athisbeautifulhands.Itwashorrible,itwasindecent.Wouldtheynevercome,sheasked,forshecouldnotsustainthisenormousweightofsorrow,supporttheseheavydraperiesofgrief(hehadassumedaposeofextremedecrepitude;heeventotteredalittleashestoodthere)amomentlonger.

           Stillshecouldsaynothing;thewholehorizonseemedsweptbareofobjectstotalkabout;couldonlyfeel,amazedly,asMr.Ramsaystoodthere,howhisgazeseemedtofalldolefullyoverthesunnygrassanddiscolourit,andcastovertherubicund,drowsy,entirelycontentedfigureofMr.Carmichael,readingaFrenchnovelonadeck-chair,aveilofcrape,asifsuchanexistence,flauntingitsprosperityinaworldofwoe,wereenoughtoprovokethemostdismalthoughtsofall.

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