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TO THE LIGHTHOUSEgloom. None of this throwing of hands about;people spoke in an ordinary tone of voice. Theywent in and out all day long. There was an oldwoman gossiping in the kitchen; and the blinds weresucked in and out by the breeze; all was blowing, allwas growing; and over all those plates and bowlsand tall brandishing red and yellow flowers a verythin yellow veil would be drawn, like a vine leaf, atnight. Things became stiller and darker at night.But the leaf-like veil was so fine, that lights liftedit, voices crinkled it; he could see through it a figurestooping, hear, coming close, going away, some dressrustling, some chain tinkling.

It was in this world that the wheel went over theperson’s foot. Something, he remembered, stayedand darkened over him; would not move; somethingflourished up in the air, something arid and sharpdescended even there, like a blade, a scimitar, smit-ing through the leaves and flowers even of thathappy world and making it shrivel and fall.

"It will rain," he remembered his father saying."You won’t be able to go to the Lighthouse."

The Lighthouse was then a silvery, misty-lookingtower with a yellow eye, that opened suddenly, andsoftly in the evening. Now—

James looked at the Lighthouse. He could see thewhite-washed rocks; the tower, stark and straight;276