To the Lighthouse, Part 3 of 13
The Sleepy Bookshelf
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Domesticity Triumphed
She was trying to get these tiresome stockings finished to send to Solly's little boy tomorrow said Mrs Ramsey. There wasn't the slightest possible chance that they could go to the lighthouse tomorrow, Mr Ramsey snapped out irascibly. How did he know? she asked. The extraordinary irrationality of her remark enraged him. He stamped his foot on the stone step and cursed her. To rend the thin veils of civilisation so wanton me so brutally was to hurt so horrible an outrage of human decency That without replying dazed and blinded she bent her head as if to let the pelt of jagged hail the drench of dirty water as spatter her unrepuked.
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