TO THE LIGHTHOUSEa shadow without irreverence. A light here requireda shadow there. He considered. He was interested.He took it scientifically in complete good faith. Thetruth was that all his prejudices were on the otherside, he explained. The largest picture in his draw-ing-room, which painters had praised, and valued ata higher price than he had given for it, was of thecherry trees in blossom on the banks of the Kennet.He had spent his honeymoon on the banks of theKennet, he said. Lily must come and see that pic-ture, he said. But now—he turned, with his glassesraised to the scientific examination of her canvas.The question being one of the relations of masses, oflights and shadows, which, to be honest, he hadnever considered before, he would like to have it ex-plained—what then did she wish to make of it? Andhe indicated the scene before them. She looked.She could not show him what she wished to makeof it, could not see it even herself, without a brushin her hand. She took up once more her old paintingposition with the dim eyes and the absent-mindedmanner, subduing all her impressions as a woman tosomething much more general; becoming once moreunder the power of that vision which she had seenclearly once and must now grope for among hedgesand houses and mothers and children—her picture.It was a question, she remembered, how to connect82
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