TOTHE LIGHTHOUSElistened, as if she waited for some habitual sound,some regular mechanical sound; and then, hearinga[%]something rhythmical, half said, half chanted,beginning in the garden, as her husband beat upand down the terrace, something between a croakand a song, she was soothed once more, assuredagain that all was well, and looking down at thebook on her knee found the picture of a pocketknife with six blades which could only be cut outif James was very very[%]careful.

But in a moment[%]Suddenlya loud cry, as of a sleep-walker, half roused, something about10pt HB pencil with parenthesis bracket or braceStormed at with shot and shellcentered in smaller type sung out with the utmost intensity and gesticula-tion[%]in her ear, made her turn apprehensively tosee if any one heard him. Only Lily Briscoe, shewas glad to find; and that did not matter. Butthe sight of the girl standing on the edge of thelawn painting reminded her; she was supposedto be keeping her head as much in the sameposition as possible for Lily's picture. Lily'spicture! Mrs. Ramsay smiled. With her littleChinese eyes and her puckered-up face, living asshe did off the Brompton Road with a tiresomeold father, she would never marry; yet[%]one couldnot take her painting very seriously; stillVW inserted text, below, circled and indicated to be added here. She was an independent littlecreature, & Mrs. Ramsay liked her for it;soremem-bering her promise, she bent her head.31
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