TO THE LIGHTHOUSEdoor, standing looking up into the sky. Andrewhad his net and basket. That meant he was goingto catch crabs and things. That meant he wouldclimb out on to a rock; he would be cut off. Orcoming back single file on one of those little pathsabove the cliff one of them might slip. Hewould roll and then crash. It was growingquite dark.

But she did not let her voice change in theleast as she finished the story, and added, shuttingthe book, and speaking the last words as if she hadmade them up herself, looking into James’s eyes:"And there they are living still at this verytime.”

"And that’s the end", she said, and she saw inhis eyes, as the interest of the story died away inthem, something else take its place; somethingwondering, pale, like the reflection of a light,which at once made him gaze and marvel. Turn-ing, she looked across the bay, and there, sureenough, coming regularly across the waves firsttwo quick strokes and then one long steady stroke,was the light of the Lighthouse. It had been lit.

In a moment he would ask her, "Are wegoing to the Lighthouse?" And she would haveto say, “No: not to-morrow; your father saysnot”. Happily, SusanMildredcame in to fetch them,and the bustle distracted them. But he kept98
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