upon literature； and determined； philosophically； to get
what he could out of that。
Katharine was pleasantly excited。 A variety of courses
was open to her。 She knew several people slightly； and at
any moment one of them might rise from the floor and
e and speak to her； on the other hand； she might
select somebody for herself； or she might strike into
Rodney’s discourse； to which she was intermittently at
tentive。 She was conscious of Mary’s body beside her；
but； at the same time； the consciousness of being both
of them women made it unnecessary to speak to her。 But
Mary； feeling； as she had said； that Katharine was a “personality；”
wished so much to speak to her that in a few
moments she did。
“They’re exactly like a flock of sheep； aren’t they？” she
said； referring to the noise that rose from the scattered
bodies beneath her。
Katharine turned and smiled。
“I wonder what they’re making such a noise about？”
she said。
“The Elizabethans； I suppose。”
“No； I don’t think it’s got anything to do with the Elizabethans。
There！ Didn’t you hear them say； ‘Insurance Bill’？”
“I wonder why men always talk about politics？” Mary
speculated。 “I suppose； if we had votes； we should； too。”
“I dare say we should。 And you spend your life in getting
us votes； don’t you？”
“I do；” said Mary； stoutly。 “From ten to six every day
I’m at it。”
46
Virginia Woolf
Katharine looked at Ralph Denham； who was now pounding
his way through the metaphysics of metaphor with
Rodney； and was reminded of his talk that Sunday afternoon。
She connected him vaguely with Mary。
“I suppose you’re one of the people who think we should
all have professions；” she said； rather distantly； as if feeling
her way among the phantoms of an unknown world。
“Oh dear no；” said Mary at once。
“Well； I think I do；” Katharine continued； with half a
sigh。 “You will always be able to say that you’ve done
something； whereas； in a crowd like this； I feel rather
melancholy。”
“In a crowd？ Why in a crowd？” Mary asked； deepening
the two lines between her eyes； and hoisting herself nearer
to Katharine upon the windowsill。
“Don’t you see how many different things these people
care about？ And I want to beat them down—I only mean；”
she corrected herself； “that I want to assert myself； and
it’s difficult； if one hasn’t a profession。”
Mary smiled； thinking that to beat people down was a
process that should present no difficulty to Miss Katharine
Hilbery。 They knew each other so slightly that the beginning
of intimacy； which Katharine seemed to initiate by
talking about herself； had something solemn in it； and
they were silent； as if to decide whether to proceed or
not。 They tested the ground。
“Ah； but I want to trample upon their prostrate bodies！”
Katharine announced； a moment later； with a laugh；
as if at the train of thought which had led her to this
conclusion。
“One doesn’t necessarily trample upon people’s bodies
because one runs an office；” Mary remarked。
“No。 Perhaps not；” Katharine replied。 The conversation
lapsed； and Mary saw Katharine looking out into the room
rather moodily with closed lips； the desire to talk about
herself or to initiate a friendship having； apparently； left
her。 Mary was struck by her capacity for being thus easily
silent； and occupied with her own thoughts。 It was a
habit that spoke of loneliness and a mind thinking for
itself。 When Katharine remained silent Mary was slightly
embarrassed。
“Yes； they’re very like sheep；” she repeated； foolishly。
47
Night and Day
“And yet they are very clever—at least；” Katharine
added； “I suppose they have all read Webster。”
“Surely you don’t think that a proof of cleverness？ I’ve
read Webster； I’ve read Ben Jonson； but I don’t think
myself clever—not exactly； at least。”
“I think you must be very clever；” Katharine observed。
“Why？ Because I run an office？”
“I wasn’t thinking of that。 I was thinking how you live
alone in this room； and have parties。”
Mary reflected for a second。
“It means； chiefly； a power of being disagreeable to
one’s own family； I think。 I have that； perhaps。 I didn’t
want to live at home； and I told my father。 He didn’t like
it… 。 But then I have a sister； and you haven’t； have
you？”
“No； I haven’t any sisters。”
“You are writing a life of your grandfather？” Mary pursued。
Katharine seemed instantly to be confronted by some
familiar thought from which she wished to escape。 She
replied； “Yes； I am helping my mother；” in such a way
that Mary felt herself baffled； and put back again into
the position in which she had been at the beginning of
their talk。 It seemed to her that Katharine possessed a
curious power of drawing near and receding； which sent
alternate emotions through her far more quickly than was
usual； and kept her in a condition of curious alertness。
Desiring to classify her； Mary bethought her of the convenient
term “egoist。”
“She’s an egoist；” she said to herself； and stored that
word up to give to Ralph one day when； as it would certainly
fall out； they were discussing Miss Hilbery。
“Heavens； what a mess there’ll be tomorrow morning！”
Katharine exclaimed。 “I hope you don’t sleep in this room；
Miss Datchet？”
Mary laughed。
“What are you laughing at？” Katharine demanded。
“I won’t tell you。”
“Let me guess。 You were laughing because you thought
I’d changed the conversation？”
“No。”
“Because you think—” She paused。
48
Virginia Woolf
“If you want to know； I was laughing at the way you
said Miss Datchet。”
“Mary； then。 Mary； Mary； Mary。”
So saying； Katharine drew back the curtain in order；
perhaps； to conceal the momentary flush of pleasure
which is caused by ing perceptibly nearer to another
person。
“Mary Datchet；” said Mary。 “It’s not such an imposing
name as Katharine Hilbery； I’m afraid。”
They both looked out of the window； first up at the
hard silver moon； stationary among a hurry of little grey
blue clouds； and then down upon the roofs of London；
with all their upright chimneys； and then below them at
the empty moonlit pavement of the street； upon which
the joint of each pavingstone was clearly marked out。
Mary then saw Katharine raise her eyes again to the moon；
with a contemplative look in them； as though she were
setting that moon against the moon of other nights； held
in memory。 Some one in the room behind them made a
joke about stargazing； which destroyed their pleasure in
it； and they looked back into the room again。
Ralph had been watching for this moment； and he instantly
produced his sentence。
“I wonder； Miss Hilbery； whether you remembered to
get that picture glazed？” His voice showed that the question
was one that had been prepared。
“Oh； you idiot！” Mary exclaimed； very nearly aloud； with
a sense that Ralph had said something very stupid。 So；
after three lessons in Latin