TO THE LIGHTHOUSEDamn your eyes, damn your eyes,but it would be fatal to let the tide come in andcover up all the good hunting-grounds before theygot on to the beach.

"Fatal," Paul agreed, springing up, and as theywent slithering down, he kept quoting the guide-book about "these islands being justly celebratedfor their park-like prospects and the extent andvariety of their marine curiosities." But it would notdo altogether, this shouting and damning your eyes,Andrew felt, picking his way down the cliff, thisclapping him on the back, and calling him "oldfellow" and all that; it would not altogether do.It was the worst of taking women on walks. Once onthe beach they separated, he going out on to thePope's Nose, taking his shoes off, and rolling hissocks in them and letting that couple look after them-selves; Nancy waded out to her own rocks andsearched her own pools and let that couple lookafter themselves. She crouched low down andtouched the smooth rubber-like sea anemones, whowere stuck like lumps of jelly to the side of the rock.Brooding, she changed the pool into the sea, andmade the minnows into sharks and whales, and castvast clouds over this tiny world by holding her handagainst the sun, and so brought darkness and deso-114
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