TO THE LIGHTHOUSEthe sandwiches among them. Now he was happy,eating bread and cheese with these fishermen. Hewould have liked to live in a cottage and loungeabout in the harbour spitting with the other oldmen, James thought, watching him slice his cheeseinto thin yellow sheets with his penknife.This is right, this is it, Cam kept feeling, as shepeeled her hard-boiled egg. Now she felt as she didin the study when the old men were reading TheTimes. Now I can go on thinking whatever I like,and I shan’t fall over a precipice or be drowned,for there he is, keeping his eye on me, she thought.

At the same time they were sailing so fast alongby the rocks that it was very exciting—it seemed asif they were doing two things at once; they wereeating their lunch here in the sun and they were alsomaking for safety in a great storm after a shipwreck.Would the water last? Would the provisions last?she asked herself, telling herself a story but know-ing at the same time what was the truth.

They would soon be out of it, Mr. Ramsay wassaying to old Macalister; but their children wouldsee some strange things. Macalister said he wasseventy-five last March; Mr. Ramsay was seventy-one. Macalister said he had never seen a doctor;he had never lost a tooth. And that’s the way I’dlike my children to live—Cam was sure that her304
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