166 TO THE LIGHTHOUSEsomewhere barking, the sun lifted the curtains, brokethe veil on their eyes, and Lily Briscoe stirring inher sleep clutched at her blankets as a faller clutchesat the turf on the edge of a cliff. Her eyes openedwide. Here she was again, she thought, sitting boltupright in bed. Awake.
Resize Images  

Select Pane

Berg Materials
 

View Pane