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Chapter 8

           Forinonemomentiftherewasnobreeze,hisfatherwouldslapthecoversofhisbooktogether,andsay:"What’shappeningnow?Whatarewedawdlingaboutherefor,eh?"as,oncebeforehehadbroughthisbladedownamongthemontheterraceandshehadgonestiffallover,andiftherehadbeenanaxehandy,aknife,oranythingwithasharppointhewouldhaveseizeditandstruckhisfatherthroughtheheart.Shehadgonestiffallover,andthen,herarmslackening,sothathefeltshelistenedtohimnolonger,shehadrisensomehowandgoneawayandlefthimthere,impotent,ridiculous,sittingonthefloorgraspingapairofscissors.

           Notabreathofwindblew.Thewaterchuckledandgurgledinthebottomoftheboatwherethreeorfourmackerelbeattheirtailsupanddowninapoolofwaternotdeepenoughtocoverthem.AtanymomentMr.Ramsay(hescarcelydaredlookathim)mightrousehimself,shuthisbook,andsaysomethingsharp;butforthemomenthewasreading,sothatJamesstealthily,asifhewerestealingdownstairsonbarefeet,afraidofwakingawatchdogbyacreakingboard,wentonthinkingwhatwasshelike,wheredidshegothatday?Hebeganfollowingherfromroomtoroomandatlasttheycametoaroomwhereinabluelight,asifthereflectioncamefrommanychinadishes,shetalkedtosomebody;helistenedtohertalking.Shetalkedtoaservant,sayingsimplywhatevercameintoherhead.Shealonespokethetruth;toheralonecouldhespeakit

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