TIME PASSESlike mist rising, quiet rose, quiet spread, the windsettled; loosely the world shook itself down to sleep,darkly here without a light to it, save what camegreen suffused through leaves, or pale on the whiteflowers in the bed by the window.

(Lily Briscoe had her bag carried up to the houselate one evening in September.)X

Then indeed peace had come. Messages of peacebreathed from the sea to the shore. Never to breakits sleep any more, to lull it rather more deeply torest, and whatever the dreamers dreamt holily,dreamt wisely, to confirm—what else was it mur-muring—as Lily Briscoe laid her head on the pillowin the clean still room and heard the sea. Throughthe open window the voice of the beauty of theworld came murmuring, too softly to hear exactlywhat it said—but what mattered if the meaningwere plain? entreating the sleepers (the house wasfull again; Mrs. Beckwith was staying there, alsoMr. Carmichael), if they would not actually comedown to the beach itself at least to lift the blind andlook out. They would see then night flowing down inpurple; his head crowned; his sceptre jewelled; andhow in his eyes a child might look. And if they still213
Resize Images  

Select Pane

Berg Materials

View Pane