TO THE LIGHTHOUSEanother division of the world, but he rather likedher stories about Mary and Joseph. She made himlaugh. But how did she know that those were Maryand Joseph? Did she think the same birds came tothe same trees every night? he asked. But here,suddenly, like all grown-up people, she ceased topay him the least attention. She was listening to aclatter in the hall.

"They’ve come back!" she exclaimed, and atonce she felt much more annoyed with them than re-lieved. Then she wondered, had it happened? Shewould go down and they would tell her—but no.They could not tell her anything, with all thesepeople about. So she must go down and begin dinnerand wait. And, like some queen who, finding herpeople gathered in the hall, looks down upon them,and descends among them, and acknowledges theirtributes silently, and accepts their devotion andtheir prostration before her (Paul did not move amuscle but looked straight before him as she passed)she went down, and crossed the hall and bowed herhead very slightly, as if she accepted what theycould not say: their tribute to her beauty.

But she stopped. There was a smell of burning.Could they have let the Bœuf en Daube overboil?she wondered, pray heaven not! when the greatclangour of the gong announced solemnly, author-124

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