Chapter 5

           Yes,thatistheirboat,LilyBriscoedecided,standingontheedgeofthelawn.Itwastheboatwithgreyish-brownsails,whichshesawnowflattenitselfuponthewaterandshootoffacrossthebay.Therehesits,shethought,andthechildrenarequitesilentstill.Andshecouldnotreachhimeither.Thesympathyshehadnotgivenhimweighedherdown.Itmadeitdifficultforhertopaint.

           Shehadalwaysfoundhimdifficult.Sheneverhadbeenabletopraisehimtohisface,sheremembered.Andthatreducedtheirrelationshiptosomethingneutral,withoutthatelementofsexinitwhichmadehismannertoMintasogallant,almostgay.Hewouldpickaflowerforher,lendherhisbooks.ButcouldhebelievethatMintareadthem?Shedraggedthemaboutthegarden,stickinginleavestomarktheplace.

           "D’youremember,Mr.Carmichael?"shewasinclinedtoask,lookingattheoldman.Buthehadpulledhishathalfoverhisforehead;hewasasleep,orhewasdreaming,orhewaslyingtherecatchingwords,shesupposed.

           "D’youremember?"shefeltinclinedtoaskhimasshepassedhim,thinkingagainofMrs.Ramsayonthebeach;thecaskbobbingupanddown;andthepagesflying.Why,afteralltheseyearshadthatsurvived,ringedround,litup,visibletothelastdetail,withallbeforeitblankandallafteritblank,formilesandmiles?

           "Isitaboat?Isitacork?"shewouldsay,Lilyrepeated,turningback,reluctantlyagain,tohercanvas.Heavenbepraisedforit,theproblemofspaceremained,shethought,takingupherbrushagain.