TO THE LIGHTHOUSE—forgive me, care for me; while James thelawgiver, with the tablets of eternal wisdom laidopen on his knee (his hand on the tiller had becomesymbolical to her), said, Resist him. Fight him.He said so rightly; justly. For they maymustfighttyranny to the death, she thought. Of all humanqualities she reverenced justice most. Her brotherwas most god-like, her father most suppliant.And to which did she yield, she thought, sittingbetween them, gazing at the shore whose pointswere all unknown to her, and thinking how thelawn and the terrace and the atticshousewere smoothedaway now and peace dwelt there.

“Jasper," she said sullenly. He’d look afterthe puppy.

And what was she going to call him? herfather persisted. He had had a dog when he wasa little boy, called Frisk. She’ll give way, Jamesthought, as he watched a look come upon herface, a look he remembered. They look downhe thought, at their knitting or something. Thensuddenly they look up. There was a flash of blue,he remembered, and then somebody sitting withhim laughed, surrendered, and he was very angry.It must have been his mother, hethoughtremembered,sitting on a low chair, with his father standingover her. He began to search it out[%]among theinfinite series of impressions which time had laid260
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