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166 TO THE LIGHTHOUSEsomewhere barking, the sun lifted the curtains, brokethe veil on their eyes, and Lily Briscoe stirring inher sleep clutched at her blankets as a faller clutchesat the turf on the edge of a cliff. Her eyes openedwide. Here she was again, she thought, sitting boltupright in bed. Awake.
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