TO THE LIGHTHOUSERamsay, without being aware of any unhappiness?She addressed old Mr. Carmichael again. What wasit then? What did it mean? Could things thrust theirhands up and grip one; could the blade cut; the fistgrasp? Was there no safety? No learning by heartof the ways of the world? No guide, no shelter, butall was miracle, and leaping from the pinnacle ofa tower into the air? Could it be, even for elderlypeople, that this was life?—startling, unexpected,unknown? For one moment she felt that if they bothgot up, here, now on the lawn, and demanded anexplanation, why was it so short, why was it so in-explicable, said it with violence, as two fullyequipped human beings from whom nothing shouldbe hid might speak, then, beauty would roll itselfup; the space would fill; those empty flourisheswould form into shape; if they shouted loud enoughMrs. Ramsay would return. “Mrs. Ramsay!" shesaid aloud, "Mrs. Ramsay!" The tears ran down herface.VI

[Macalister’s boy took one of the fish and cut asquare out of its side to bait his hook with. Themutilated body (it was alive still) was thrown backinto the sea.]268
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