To the Lighthouse, Part 12 of 13
The Sleepy Bookshelf
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The Little Book With the Glossy Cover
She looked at him reading the little book with his legs curled. He read as if he were guiding something, or weadling a large flock of sheep. As he went fast and straight, he broke his way through the Bramble. She gazed back over the island but the leaf was losing its sharpness. It was very small, it was very distant. The sea was more important now than the shore. Waves were all around them, tossing and sinking. About here, she thought, dabbling her fingers in the water, a ship had sunk,. And she mannered, dreaming half asleep, how we perished, each alone.
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