then burst out； looking out； too； upon Russell Square
and Southampton Row； and at the passersby； “Ah； if only
one could get every one of those people into this room；
and make them understand for five minutes！ But they
must see the truth some day… 。 If only one could MAKE
them see it… 。”
Mary knew herself to be very much wiser than Mrs。 Seal；
and when Mrs。 Seal said anything； even if it was what Mary
herself was feeling； she automatically thought of all that
there was to be said against it。 On this occasion her arrogant
feeling that she could direct everybody dwindled away。
“Let’s have our tea；” she said； turning back from the
window and pulling down the blind。 “It was a good meeting—
didn’t you think so； Sally？” she let fall； casually； as
she sat down at the table。 Surely Mrs。 Seal must realize
that Mary had been extraordinarily efficient？
“But we go at such a snail’s pace；” said Sally； shaking
her head impatiently。
At this Mary burst out laughing； and all her arrogance
was dissipated。
“You can afford to laugh；” said Sally； with another shake
of her head； “but I can’t。 I’m fiftyfive； and I dare say I
shall be in my grave by the time we get it—if we ever do。”
“Oh； no； you won’t be in your grave；” said Mary； kindly。
“It’ll be such a great day；” said Mrs。 Seal； with a toss of
her locks。 “A great day； not only for us； but for civilization。
That’s what I feel； you know； about these meetings。
Each one of them is a step onwards in the great march—
humanity； you know。 We do want the people after us to
have a better time of it—and so many don’t see it。 I
wonder how it is that they don’t see it？”
She was carrying plates and cups from the cupboard as
she spoke； so that her sentences were more than usually
broken apart。 Mary could not help looking at the odd
little priestess of humanity with something like admiration。
While she had been thinking about herself； Mrs。
Seal had thought of nothing but her vision。
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Virginia Woolf
“You mustn’t wear yourself out； Sally； if you want to
see the great day；” she said； rising and trying to take a
plate of biscuits from Mrs。 Seal’s hands。
“My dear child； what else is my old body good for？” she
exclaimed； clinging more tightly than before to her plate
of biscuits。 “Shouldn’t I be proud to give everything I
have to the cause？—for I’m not an intelligence like you。
There were domestic circumstances—I’d like to tell you
one of these days—so I say foolish things。 I lose my
head； you know。 You don’t。 Mr。 Clacton doesn’t。 It’s a
great mistake； to lose one’s head。 But my heart’s in the
right place。 And I’m so glad Kit has a big dog； for I didn’t
think her looking well。”
They had their tea； and went over many of the points
that had been raised in the mittee rather more intimately
than had been possible then； and they all felt an
agreeable sense of being in some way behind the scenes；
of having their hands upon strings which； when pulled；
would pletely change the pageant exhibited daily to
those who read the newspapers。 Although their views were
very different； this sense united them and made them
almost cordial in their manners to each other。
Mary； however； left the teaparty rather early； desiring
both to be alone； and then to hear some music at the
Queen’s Hall。 She fully intended to use her loneliness to
think out her position with regard to Ralph； but although
she walked back to the Strand with this end in view； she
found her mind unfortably full of different trains of
thought。 She started one and then another。 They seemed
even to take their color from the street she happened to
be in。 Thus the vision of humanity appeared to be in
some way connected with Bloomsbury； and faded distinctly
by the time she crossed the main road； then a
belated organgrinder in Holborn set her thoughts dancing
incongruously； and by the time she was crossing the
great misty square of Lincoln’s Inn Fields； she was cold
and depressed again； and horribly clearsighted。 The dark
removed the stimulus of human panionship； and a
tear actually slid down her cheek； acpanying a sudden
conviction within her that she loved Ralph； and that
he didn’t love her。 All dark and empty now was the path
where they had walked that morning； and the sparrows
145
Night and Day
silent in the bare trees。 But the lights in her own building
soon cheered her； all these different states of mind
were submerged in the deep flood of desires； thoughts；
perceptions； antagonisms； which washed perpetually at
the base of her being； to rise into prominence in turn
when the conditions of the upper world were favorable。
She put off the hour of clear thought until Christmas；
saying to herself； as she lit her fire； that it is impossible
to think anything out in London； and； no doubt； Ralph
wouldn’t e at Christmas； and she would take long
walks into the heart of the country； and decide this question
and all the others that puzzled her。 Meanwhile； she
thought； drawing her feet up on to the fender； life was
full of plexity； life was a thing one must love to the
last fiber of it。
She had sat there for five minutes or so； and her thoughts
had had time to grow dim； when there came a ring at her
bell。 Her eye brightened； she felt immediately convinced
that Ralph had e to visit her。 Accordingly； she waited
a moment before opening the door； she wanted to feel
her hands secure upon the reins of all the troublesome
emotions which the sight of Ralph would certainly arouse。
She posed herself unnecessarily； however； for she had
to admit； not Ralph； but Katharine and William Rodney。
Her first impression was that they were both extremely
well dressed。 She felt herself shabby and slovenly beside
them； and did not know how she should entertain them；
nor could she guess why they had e。 She had heard
nothing of their engagement。 But after the first disappointment；
she was pleased； for she felt instantly that
Katharine was a personality； and； moreover； she need not
now exercise her selfcontrol。
“We were passing and saw a light in your window； so we
came up；” Katharine explained； standing and looking very
tall and distinguished and rather absentminded。
“We have been to see some pictures；” said William。 “Oh；
dear；” he exclaimed； looking about him； “this room reminds
me of one of the worst hours in my existence—
when I read a paper； and you all sat round and jeered at
me。 Katharine was the worst。 I could feel her gloating over
every mistake I made。 Miss Datchet was kind。 Miss Datchet
just made it possible for me to get through； I remember。”
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Virginia Woolf
Sitting down； he drew off his light yellow gloves； and
began slapping his knees with them。 His vitality was pleasant；
Mary thought； although he made her laugh。 The very
look of him was inclined to make her laugh。 His rather
prominent eyes passed from one young woman to the
other； and his lips perpetually formed words which remained
unspoken。
“We have b