THE LIGHTHOUSE

widowed, bereft; and so called up before him
in hosts people sympathising with him; staged
for himself as he sat in the boat, a little drama;
which required of him decrepitude and exhaustion
and sorrow (he raised his hands and looked at the
thinness of them, to confirm his dream) and then
there was given him in abundance women's
sympathy, and he imagined how they would
soothe him and sympathise with him, and so
getting in his dream some reflection of the
exquisite pleasure women's sympathy was to him,
he sighed and said gently and mournfully.

But I beneath a rougher sea

Was whelmed in deeper gulfs than he,

so that the mournful words were heard quite
clearly by them all. Cam half started on her seat.
It shocked her—it outraged her. The movement
roused her father; and he shuddered, and broke
off, exclaiming: "Lookl Look!" so urgently
that James also turned his head to look over his
shoulder at the island. They all looked. They
looked at the island.

But Cam could see nothing. She was thinking
how all those paths and the lawn, thick and knotted
with the lives they had lived there, were gone;
were rubbed out; were past; were unreal, and now
this was real; the boat and the sail with its patch;
Macalister with his earrings; the noise of the