На маяк. Уровень 3 / To the Lighthouse

She was making Minta marry Paul Rayley. People must marry; people must have children.

Was she wrong in this? she asked herself. She was uneasy.

“Then he put on his trousers and ran away like a madman,” she read. “But outside a great storm was raging and blowing so hard that he could scarcely keep his feet. Houses and trees toppled over, the mountains trembled, rocks rolled into the sea. The sky was black, and it thundered and lightened. The sea came in with black waves as high as church towers and mountains, and all with white foam at the top.

”

She turned the page; there were only a few lines more. She will finish the story. It was getting late. The light in the garden told her that. Then she remembered; Paul and Minta and Andrew had not come back. Andrew had his net and basket. That meant he was going to catch crabs. It was growing quite dark.

She looked into James’s eyes:

“And there they are living still at this very time[11 - And there they are living still at this very time.

 – Так они и живут до сих пор.].”

“And that’s the end,” she said.

She saw in his eyes that the interest of the story died away in them. Something else took its place. She turned and looked across the bay. She saw the light of the Lighthouse.

In a moment he will ask her,

“Are we going to the Lighthouse?”

And she will say,

“No: not tomorrow; your father says not.”

Happily, Mildred came in. The bustle distracted them. As Mildred carried him out, she was certain that he was thinking, we are not going to the Lighthouse tomorrow.

He will remember that all his life.

11

No, she thought, putting together the pictures – a refrigerator, a mowing machine[12 - mowing machine – косилка], a gentleman in evening dress – children never forget. For this reason, it was so important what one said, and what one did. It was a relief when they went to bed. For now she need not think about anybody. She could be herself, by herself.

To be silent; to be alone. Although she continued to knit, and sat upright, it was thus that she felt herself. When life sank down, the range of experience seemed limitless.

And to everybody there was always this sense of unlimited resources, she supposed. She, Lily, Augustus Carmichael, must feel: our apparitions are simply childish. Beneath it is all dark, it is unfathomably deep. Her horizon seemed to her limitless. They could not stop her, she thought.