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- Вирджиния Вульф
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"
Where
are
they
now
?
"
Lily
thought
,
looking
out
to
sea
.
Where
was
he
,
that
very
old
man
who
had
gone
past
her
silently
,
holding
a
brown
paper
parcel
under
his
arm
?
The
boat
was
in
the
middle
of
the
bay
.
They
do
n't
feel
a
thing
there
,
Cam
thought
,
looking
at
the
shore
,
which
,
rising
and
falling
,
became
steadily
more
distant
and
more
peaceful
.
Her
hand
cut
a
trail
in
the
sea
,
as
her
mind
made
the
green
swirls
and
streaks
into
patterns
and
,
numbed
and
shrouded
,
wandered
in
imagination
in
that
underworld
of
waters
where
the
pearls
stuck
in
clusters
to
white
sprays
,
where
in
the
green
light
a
change
came
over
one
's
entire
mind
and
one
's
body
shone
half
transparent
enveloped
in
a
green
cloak
.
Then
the
eddy
slackened
round
her
hand
.
The
rush
of
the
water
ceased
;
the
world
became
full
of
little
creaking
and
squeaking
sounds
.
One
heard
the
waves
breaking
and
flapping
against
the
side
of
the
boat
as
if
they
were
anchored
in
harbour
.
Everything
became
very
close
to
one
.
For
the
sail
,
upon
which
James
had
his
eyes
fixed
until
it
had
become
to
him
like
a
person
whom
he
knew
,
sagged
entirely
;
there
they
came
to
a
stop
,
flapping
about
waiting
for
a
breeze
,
in
the
hot
sun
,
miles
from
shore
,
miles
from
the
Lighthouse
.
Everything
in
the
whole
world
seemed
to
stand
still
.
The
Lighthouse
became
immovable
,
and
the
line
of
the
distant
shore
became
fixed
.
The
sun
grew
hotter
and
everybody
seemed
to
come
very
close
together
and
to
feel
each
other
's
presence
,
which
they
had
almost
forgotten
.
Macalister
's
fishing
line
went
plumb
down
into
the
sea
.
But
Mr.
Ramsay
went
on
reading
with
his
legs
curled
under
him
.
He
was
reading
a
little
shiny
book
with
covers
mottled
like
a
plover
's
egg
.
Now
and
again
,
as
they
hung
about
in
that
horrid
calm
,
he
turned
a
page
.
And
James
felt
that
each
page
was
turned
with
a
peculiar
gesture
aimed
at
him
;
now
assertively
,
now
commandingly
;
now
with
the
intention
of
making
people
pity
him
;
and
all
the
time
,
as
his
father
read
and
turned
one
after
another
of
those
little
pages
,
James
kept
dreading
the
moment
when
he
would
look
up
and
speak
sharply
to
him
about
something
or
other
.
Why
were
they
lagging
about
here
?
he
would
demand
,
or
something
quite
unreasonable
like
that
.
And
if
he
does
,
James
thought
,
then
I
shall
take
a
knife
and
strike
him
to
the
heart
.
He
had
always
kept
this
old
symbol
of
taking
a
knife
and
striking
his
father
to
the
heart
.
Only
now
,
as
he
grew
older
,
and
sat
staring
at
his
father
in
an
impotent
rage
,
it
was
not
him
,
that
old
man
reading
,
whom
he
wanted
to
kill
,
but
it
was
the
thing
that
descended
on
him
--
without
his
knowing
it
perhaps
:
that
fierce
sudden
black-winged
harpy
,
with
its
talons
and
its
beak
all
cold
and
hard
,
that
struck
and
struck
at
you
(
he
could
feel
the
beak
on
his
bare
legs
,
where
it
had
struck
when
he
was
a
child
)
and
then
made
off
,
and
there
he
was
again
,
an
old
man
,
very
sad
,
reading
his
book
.
That
he
would
kill
,
that
he
would
strike
to
the
heart
.
Whatever
he
did
--
(
and
he
might
do
anything
,
he
felt
,
looking
at
the
Lighthouse
and
the
distant
shore
)
whether
he
was
in
a
business
,
in
a
bank
,
a
barrister
,
a
man
at
the
head
of
some
enterprise
,
that
he
would
fight
,
that
he
would
track
down
and
stamp
out
--
tyranny
,
despotism
,
he
called
it
--
making
people
do
what
they
did
not
want
to
do
,
cutting
off
their
right
to
speak
.
How
could
any
of
them
say
,
But
I
wo
n't
,
when
he
said
,
Come
to
the
Lighthouse
.
Do
this
.
Fetch
me
that
.
The
black
wings
spread
,
and
the
hard
beak
tore
.
And
then
next
moment
,
there
he
sat
reading
his
book
;
and
he
might
look
up
--
one
never
knew
--
quite
reasonably
.
He
might
talk
to
the
Macalisters
.
He
might
be
pressing
a
sovereign
into
some
frozen
old
woman
's
hand
in
the
street
,
James
thought
,
and
he
might
be
shouting
out
at
some
fisherman
's
sports
;
he
might
be
waving
his
arms
in
the
air
with
excitement
.
Or
he
might
sit
at
the
head
of
the
table
dead
silent
from
one
end
of
dinner
to
the
other
.
Yes
,
thought
James
,
while
the
boat
slapped
and
dawdled
there
in
the
hot
sun
;
there
was
a
waste
of
snow
and
rock
very
lonely
and
austere
;
and
there
he
had
come
to
feel
,
quite
often
lately
,
when
his
father
said
something
or
did
something
which
surprised
the
others
,
there
were
two
pairs
of
footprints
only
;
his
own
and
his
father
's
.
They
alone
knew
each
other
.
What
then
was
this
terror
,
this
hatred
?
Turning
back
among
the
many
leaves
which
the
past
had
folded
in
him
,
peering
into
the
heart
of
that
forest
where
light
and
shade
so
chequer
each
other
that
all
shape
is
distorted
,
and
one
blunders
,
now
with
the
sun
in
one
's
eyes
,
now
with
a
dark
shadow
,
he
sought
an
image
to
cool
and
detach
and
round
off
his
feeling
in
a
concrete
shape
.
Suppose
then
that
as
a
child
sitting
helpless
in
a
perambulator
,
or
on
some
one
's
knee
,
he
had
seen
a
waggon
crush
ignorantly
and
innocently
,
some
one
's
foot
?
Suppose
he
had
seen
the
foot
first
,
in
the
grass
,
smooth
,
and
whole
;
then
the
wheel
;
and
the
same
foot
,
purple
,
crushed
.
But
the
wheel
was
innocent
.
So
now
,
when
his
father
came
striding
down
the
passage
knocking
them
up
early
in
the
morning
to
go
to
the
Lighthouse
down
it
came
over
his
foot
,
over
Cam
's
foot
,
over
anybody
's
foot
.
One
sat
and
watched
it
.
But
whose
foot
was
he
thinking
of
,
and
in
what
garden
did
all
this
happen
?
For
one
had
settings
for
these
scenes
;
trees
that
grew
there
;
flowers
;
a
certain
light
;
a
few
figures
.
Everything
tended
to
set
itself
in
a
garden
where
there
was
none
of
this
gloom
.
None
of
this
throwing
of
hands
about
;
people
spoke
in
an
ordinary
tone
of
voice
.
They
went
in
and
out
all
day
long
.
There
was
an
old
woman
gossiping
in
the
kitchen
;
and
the
blinds
were
sucked
in
and
out
by
the
breeze
;
all
was
blowing
,
all
was
growing
;
and
over
all
those
plates
and
bowls
and
tall
brandishing
red
and
yellow
flowers
a
very
thin
yellow
veil
would
be
drawn
,
like
a
vine
leaf
,
at
night
.
Things
became
stiller
and
darker
at
night
.
But
the
leaf-like
veil
was
so
fine
,
that
lights
lifted
it
,
voices
crinkled
it
;
he
could
see
through
it
a
figure
stooping
,
hear
,
coming
close
,
going
away
,
some
dress
rustling
,
some
chain
tinkling
.
It
was
in
this
world
that
the
wheel
went
over
the
person
's
foot
.
