TO THE LIGHTHOUSE

Paul took her down the garden to look at the
Belgian hares which he bred, and Minta followed
them, singing, and put her bare arm on his
shoulder, lest he should tell her anything,

Minta was bored by hares, Lily thought. But
Minta never gave herself away. She never said
things like that about playing chess in coffee-
houses. She was far too conscious, far too wary.
But to go on with their story—they had got
through the dangerous stage by now. She had
been staying with them last summer some time
and the car broke down and Minta had to hand
him his tools. He sat on the road mending the
car, and it was the way she gave him the tools—
business - like, straightforward, friendly — that
proved it was all right now. They were " in love "
no longer; no, he had taken up with another
woman, a serious woman, with her hair in a plait
and a case in her hand (Minta had described
her gratefully, almost admiringly), who went to
meetings and shared Paul's views (they had got
more and more pronounced) about the taxation of
land values and a capital levy. Far from breaking
up the marriage, that alliance had righted it.
They were excellent friends, obviously, as he sat
on the road and she handed him his tools.

So that was the story of the Rayleys, Lily
smiled. She imagined herself telling it to Mrs.
268