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- Вирджиния Вульф
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- Миссис Дэллоуэй
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- Стр. 12/96
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The
way
to
Regent
's
Park
Tube
station
--
could
they
tell
her
the
way
to
Regent
's
Park
Tube
station
--
Maisie
Johnson
wanted
to
know
.
She
was
only
up
from
Edinburgh
two
days
ago
.
"
Not
this
way
--
over
there
!
"
Rezia
exclaimed
,
waving
her
aside
,
lest
she
should
see
Septimus
.
Both
seemed
queer
,
Maisie
Johnson
thought
.
Everything
seemed
very
queer
.
In
London
for
the
first
time
,
come
to
take
up
a
post
at
her
uncle
's
in
Leadenhall
Street
,
and
now
walking
through
Regent
's
Park
in
the
morning
,
this
couple
on
the
chairs
gave
her
quite
a
turn
;
the
young
woman
seeming
foreign
,
the
man
looking
queer
;
so
that
should
she
be
very
old
she
would
still
remember
and
make
it
jangle
again
among
her
memories
how
she
had
walked
through
Regent
's
Park
on
a
fine
summer
's
morning
fifty
years
ago
.
For
she
was
only
nineteen
and
had
got
her
way
at
last
,
to
come
to
London
;
and
now
how
queer
it
was
,
this
couple
she
had
asked
the
way
of
,
and
the
girl
started
and
jerked
her
hand
,
and
the
man
--
he
seemed
awfully
odd
;
quarrelling
,
perhaps
;
parting
for
ever
,
perhaps
;
something
was
up
,
she
knew
;
and
now
all
these
people
(
for
she
returned
to
the
Broad
Walk
)
,
the
stone
basins
,
the
prim
flowers
,
the
old
men
and
women
,
invalids
most
of
them
in
Bath
chairs
--
all
seemed
,
after
Edinburgh
,
so
queer
.
And
Maisie
Johnson
,
as
she
joined
that
gently
trudging
,
vaguely
gazing
,
breeze-kissed
company
--
squirrels
perching
and
preening
,
sparrow
fountains
fluttering
for
crumbs
,
dogs
busy
with
the
railings
,
busy
with
each
other
,
while
the
soft
warm
air
washed
over
them
and
lent
to
the
fixed
unsurprised
gaze
with
which
they
received
life
something
whimsical
and
mollified
--
Maisie
Johnson
positively
felt
she
must
cry
Oh
!
(
for
that
young
man
on
the
seat
had
given
her
quite
a
turn
.
Something
was
up
,
she
knew
.
)
Horror
!
horror
!
she
wanted
to
cry
.
(
She
had
left
her
people
;
they
had
warned
her
what
would
happen
.
)
Why
had
n't
she
stayed
at
home
?
she
cried
,
twisting
the
knob
of
the
iron
railing
.
That
girl
,
thought
Mrs.
Dempster
(
who
saved
crusts
for
the
squirrels
and
often
ate
her
lunch
in
Regent
's
Park
)
,
do
n't
know
a
thing
yet
;
and
really
it
seemed
to
her
better
to
be
a
little
stout
,
a
little
slack
,
a
little
moderate
in
one
's
expectations
.
Percy
drank
.
Well
,
better
to
have
a
son
,
thought
Mrs.
Dempster
.
She
had
had
a
hard
time
of
it
,
and
could
n't
help
smiling
at
a
girl
like
that
.
You
'll
get
married
,
for
you
're
pretty
enough
,
thought
Mrs.
Dempster
.
Get
married
,
she
thought
,
and
then
you
'll
know
.
Oh
,
the
cooks
,
and
so
on
.
Every
man
has
his
ways
.
But
whether
I
'd
have
chosen
quite
like
that
if
I
could
have
known
,
thought
Mrs.
Dempster
,
and
could
not
help
wishing
to
whisper
a
word
to
Maisie
Johnson
;
to
feel
on
the
creased
pouch
of
her
worn
old
face
the
kiss
of
pity
.
For
it
's
been
a
hard
life
,
thought
Mrs.
Dempster
.
What
had
n't
she
given
to
it
?
Roses
;
figure
;
her
feet
too
.
(
She
drew
the
knobbed
lumps
beneath
her
skirt
.
)
Roses
,
she
thought
sardonically
.
All
trash
,
m
'd
ear
.
For
really
,
what
with
eating
,
drinking
,
and
mating
,
the
bad
days
and
good
,
life
had
been
no
mere
matter
of
roses
,
and
what
was
more
,
let
me
tell
you
,
Carrie
Dempster
had
no
wish
to
change
her
lot
with
any
woman
's
in
Kentish
Town
!
But
,
she
implored
,
pity
.
Pity
,
for
the
loss
of
roses
.
Pity
she
asked
of
Maisie
Johnson
,
standing
by
the
hyacinth
beds
.
Ah
,
but
that
aeroplane
!
Had
n't
Mrs.
Dempster
always
longed
to
see
foreign
parts
?
She
had
a
nephew
,
a
missionary
.
It
soared
and
shot
.
She
always
went
on
the
sea
at
Margate
,
not
out
o
'
sight
of
land
,
but
she
had
no
patience
with
women
who
were
afraid
of
water
.
It
swept
and
fell
.
Her
stomach
was
in
her
mouth
.
Up
again
.
There
's
a
fine
young
feller
aboard
of
it
,
Mrs.
