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Chapter 7

           Sofinewasthemorningexceptforastreakofwindhereandtherethattheseaandskylookedallonefabric,asifsailswerestuckhighupinthesky,orthecloudshaddroppeddownintothesea.Asteamerfaroutatseahaddrawnintheairagreatscrollofsmokewhichstayedtherecurvingandcirclingdecoratively,asiftheairwereafinegauzewhichheldthingsandkeptthemsoftlyinitsmesh,onlygentlyswayingthemthiswayandthat.Andashappenssometimeswhentheweatherisveryfine,thecliffslookedasiftheywereconsciousoftheships,andtheshipslookedasiftheywereconsciousofthecliffs,asiftheysignalledtoeachothersomemessageoftheirown.Forsometimesquiteclosetotheshore,theLighthouselookedthismorninginthehazeanenormousdistanceaway.

           "Wherearetheynow?"Lilythought,lookingouttosea.Wherewashe,thatveryoldmanwhohadgonepasthersilently,holdingabrownpaperparcelunderhisarm?Theboatwasinthemiddleofthebay.

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