the hour； in obedience to a few strokes of his pen on a
piece of paper； and when it had opened sufficiently often；
he loved to issue from his inner chamber with documents
in his hands； visibly important； with a preoccupied
expression on his face that might have suited a Prime
Minister advancing to meet his Cabi。 By his orders the
table had been decorated beforehand with six sheets of
blottingpaper； with six pens； six inkpots； a tumbler and
a jug of water； a bell； and； in deference to the taste of
the lady members； a vase of hardy chrysanthemums。 He
had already surreptitiously straightened the sheets of
blottingpaper in relation to the inkpots； and now stood
in front of the fire engaged in conversation with Miss
Markham。 But his eye was on the door； and when Mary
and Mrs。 Seal entered； he gave a little laugh and observed
to the assembly which was scattered about the
room：
“I fancy； ladies and gentlemen； that we are ready to
mence。”
So speaking； he took his seat at the head of the table；
and arranging one bundle of papers upon his right and
another upon his left； called upon Miss Datchet to read
the minutes of the previous meeting。 Mary obeyed。 A keen
observer might have wondered why it was necessary for
the secretary to knit her brows so closely over the tolerably
matteroffact statement before her。 Could there be
any doubt in her mind that it had been resolved to circularize
the provinces with Leaflet No。 3； or to issue a statistical
diagram showing the proportion of married women
to spinsters in New Zealand； or that the profits of
Mrs。 Hipsley’s Bazaar had reached a total of five pounds
eight shillings and twopence halfpenny？
Could any doubt as to the perfect sense and propriety
of these statements be disturbing her？ No one could have
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Virginia Woolf
guessed； from the look of her； that she was disturbed at
all。 A pleasanter and saner woman than Mary Datchet
was never seen within a mitteeroom。 She seemed a
pound of the autumn leaves and the winter sunshine；
less poetically speaking； she showed both gentleness and
strength； an indefinable promise of soft maternity blending
with her evident fitness for honest labor。 Nevertheless；
she had great difficulty in reducing her mind to
obedience； and her reading lacked conviction； as if； as
was indeed the case； she had lost the power of visualizing
what she read。 And directly the list was pleted；
her mind floated to Lincoln’s Inn Fields and the fluttering
wings of innumerable sparrows。 Was Ralph still enticing
the baldheaded cocksparrow to sit upon his hand？
Had he succeeded？ Would he ever succeed？ She had meant
to ask him why it is that the sparrows in Lincoln’s Inn
Fields are tamer than the sparrows in Hyde Park—perhaps
it is that the passersby are rarer； and they e to
recognize their benefactors。 For the first halfhour of the
mittee meeting； Mary had thus to do battle with the
skeptical presence of Ralph Denham； who threatened to
have it all his own way。 Mary tried half a dozen methods
of ousting him。 She raised her voice； she articulated distinctly；
she looked firmly at Mr。 Clacton’s bald head； she
began to write a note。 To her annoyance； her pencil drew
a little round figure on the blottingpaper； which； she
could not deny； was really a baldheaded cocksparrow。
She looked again at Mr。 Clacton； yes； he was bald； and so
are cocksparrows。 Never was a secretary tormented by
so many unsuitable suggestions； and they all came； alas！
with something ludicrously grotesque about them； which
might； at any moment； provoke her to such flippancy as
would shock her colleagues for ever。 The thought of what
she might say made her bite her lips； as if her lips would
protect her。
But all these suggestions were but flotsam and jetsam
cast to the surface by a more profound disturbance； which；
as she could not consider it at present； manifested its
existence by these grotesque nods and beckonings。 Consider
it； she must； when the mittee was over。 Meanwhile；
she was behaving scandalously； she was looking
out of the window； and thinking of the color of the sky；
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and of the decorations on the Imperial Hotel； when she
ought to have been shepherding her colleagues； and pinning
them down to the matter in hand。 She could not
bring herself to attach more weight to one project than
to another。 Ralph had said—she could not stop to consider
what he had said； but he had somehow divested the
proceedings of all reality。 And then； without conscious
effort； by some trick of the brain； she found herself being
interested in some scheme for organizing a newspaper
campaign。 Certain articles were to be written； certain
editors approached。 What line was it advisable to
take？ She found herself strongly disapproving of what
Mr。 Clacton was saying。 She mitted herself to the
opinion that now was the time to strike hard。 Directly
she had said this； she felt that she had turned upon Ralph’s
ghost； and she became more and more in earnest； and
anxious to bring the others round to her point of view。
Once more； she knew exactly and indisputably what is
right and what is wrong。 As if emerging from a mist； the
old foes of the public good loomed ahead of her—capitalists；
newspaper proprietors； antisuffragists； and； in
some ways most pernicious of all； the masses who take
no interest one way or another—among whom； for the
time being； she certainly discerned the features of Ralph
Denham。 Indeed； when Miss Markham asked her to suggest
the names of a few friends of hers； she expressed
herself with unusual bitterness：
“My friends think all this kind of thing useless。” She
felt that she was really saying that to Ralph himself。
“Oh； they’re that sort； are they？” said Miss Markham；
with a little laugh； and with renewed vigor their legions
charged the foe。
Mary’s spirits had been low when she entered the mittee
room； but now they were considerably improved。
She knew the ways of this world； it was a shapely； orderly
place； she felt convinced of its right and its wrong； and
the feeling that she was fit to deal a heavy blow against
her enemies warmed her heart and kindled her eye。 In
one of those flights of fancy； not characteristic of her but
tiresomely frequent this afternoon； she envisaged herself
battered with rotten eggs upon a platform； from which
Ralph vainly begged her to descend。 But—
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Virginia Woolf
“What do I matter pared with the cause？” she said；
and so on。 Much to her credit； however teased by foolish
fancies； she kept the surface of her brain moderate and
vigilant； and subdued Mrs。 Seal very tactfully more than
once when she demanded； “Action！—everywhere！—at
once！” as became her father’s daughter。
The other members of the mittee； who were all rather
elderly people； were a good deal impressed by Mary； and
inclined to side with her and against each other； partly；
perhaps； because of her youth。 The feeling that she controlled
them all filled Mary with a sense of power； and
she felt that no work can equal in importance； or be so
exciting as； the work of making other people do what you
want them to do。 Indeed； when she had won her point
she felt a slight degree of contempt for the people who
had yielded to her。
The mittee now rose； gathered together their papers；
shook them straight； placed them in their attache
cases； snapped the locks firmly together； and hurried away；
having； for the most part； to catch trains； in order to
keep other appointments with other mittees； for they
were all busy people。 Mary； Mrs。 Seal； and Mr。 Clacton
were left alone； the room was hot and untidy； the pieces
of pink blottingpaper were lying at different angles upon
the table； and the tumbler was half full of water； which
some one had poured out and forgotten to drink。
Mrs。 Seal began preparing the tea； while Mr。 Clacton
retired to his room to file the fresh accumulation of documents。
Mary was too much excited even to help Mrs。 Seal
with the cups and saucers。 She flung up the window and
stood by it； looking out。 The street lamps were already
lit； and through the mist in the square one could see
little figures hurrying across the road and along the pavement；
on the farther side。 In her absurd mood of lustful
arrogance； Mary looked at the little figures and thought；
“If I liked I could make you go in there or stop short； I
could make you walk in single file or in double file； I
could do what I liked with you。” Then Mrs。 Seal came and
stood by her。
“Oughtn’t you to put something round your shoulders；
Sally？” Mary asked； in rather a condescending tone of
voice； feeling a sort of pity for the enthusiastic ineffec
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tive little woman。 But Mrs。 Seal paid no attention to the
suggestion。
“Well； did you enjoy yourself？” Mary asked； with a little
laugh。
Mrs。 Seal drew a deep breath； restrained herself； and
then burst out； looking out； too； upon Russell Square
and Southampton Row； and at the passersby；