To the Lighthouse, Part 12 of 13
The Sleepy Bookshelf
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What Is It All About?
The whole world seemed to have dissolved in this early morning hour into a pool of thought. And one could almost fancy that had Mr Carmichael spoken, for instance, a little tear would have rent the surface pool. A curious notion came to her that he did after all hear the things she could not say. He was an inscrutable old man with the yellow stain on his beard, his poetry and his puzzles,. sailing serenely through a world which satisfied all his wants. So that she thought he had only to put down his hand where he lay on the lawn to fish up anything he wanted. That would have been his answer presumably. How you and I and she pass vanish.
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