|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf: talking, for she would take care to be busy when he passed, and evade
him, and pretend not to see him. Then he would turn smooth as silk,
affable, urbane, and try to win her so. Still she would hold off, and
now she would assert for a brief season some of those prides and airs
the due of her beauty which she was generally utterly without; would
turn her head; would look so, over her shoulder, always with some
Minta, Paul, or William Bankes at her side. At length, standing
outside the group the very figure of a famished wolfhound (Lily got up
off the grass and stood looking at the steps, at the window, where she
had seen him), he would say her name, once only, for all the world like
a wolf barking in the snow, but still she held back; and he would say
To the Lighthouse |
