TO THE LIGHTHOUSEthinking quite instinctively, If only he would speak!She had complete trust in him. And dismissing allthis, as one passes in diving now a weed, now astraw, now a bubble, she felt again, sinking deeper,as she had felt in the hall when the others weretalking, There is something I want—something Ihave come to get, and she fell deeper and deeperwithout knowing quite what it was, with her eyesclosed. And she waited a little, knitting, wondering,and slowly those words they had said at dinner,"the China rose is all abloom and buzzing with thehoney bee," began washing from side to side of hermind rhythmically, and as they washed, words, likelittle shaded lights, one red, one blue, one yellow, litup in the dark of her mind, and seemed leaving theirperches up there to fly across and across, or to cryout and to be echoed; so she turned and felt on thetable beside her for a book.And all the lives we ever livedAnd all the lives to be,Are full of trees and changing leaves,she murmured, sticking her needles into the stock-ing. And she opened the book and began readinghere and there at random, and as she did so shefelt that she was climbing backwards, upwards,shoving her way up under petals that curved over178
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