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- Вирджиния Вульф
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- Миссис Дэллоуэй
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- Стр. 39/96
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Oh
poor
old
wretch
!
Suppose
it
was
a
wet
night
?
Suppose
one
's
father
,
or
somebody
who
had
known
one
in
better
days
had
happened
to
pass
,
and
saw
one
standing
there
in
the
gutter
?
And
where
did
she
sleep
at
night
?
Cheerfully
,
almost
gaily
,
the
invincible
thread
of
sound
wound
up
into
the
air
like
the
smoke
from
a
cottage
chimney
,
winding
up
clean
beech
trees
and
issuing
in
a
tuft
of
blue
smoke
among
the
topmost
leaves
.
"
And
if
some
one
should
see
,
what
matter
they
?
"
Since
she
was
so
unhappy
,
for
weeks
and
weeks
now
,
Rezia
had
given
meanings
to
things
that
happened
,
almost
felt
sometimes
that
she
must
stop
people
in
the
street
,
if
they
looked
good
,
kind
people
,
just
to
say
to
them
"
I
am
unhappy
"
;
and
this
old
woman
singing
in
the
street
"
if
some
one
should
see
,
what
matter
they
?
"
made
her
suddenly
quite
sure
that
everything
was
going
to
be
right
.
They
were
going
to
Sir
William
Bradshaw
;
she
thought
his
name
sounded
nice
;
he
would
cure
Septimus
at
once
.
And
then
there
was
a
brewer
's
cart
,
and
the
grey
horses
had
upright
bristles
of
straw
in
their
tails
;
there
were
newspaper
placards
.
It
was
a
silly
,
silly
dream
,
being
unhappy
.
So
they
crossed
,
Mr.
and
Mrs.
Septimus
Warren
Smith
,
and
was
there
,
after
all
,
anything
to
draw
attention
to
them
,
anything
to
make
a
passer-by
suspect
here
is
a
young
man
who
carries
in
him
the
greatest
message
in
the
world
,
and
is
,
moreover
,
the
happiest
man
in
the
world
,
and
the
most
miserable
?
Perhaps
they
walked
more
slowly
than
other
people
,
and
there
was
something
hesitating
,
trailing
,
in
the
man
's
walk
,
but
what
more
natural
for
a
clerk
,
who
has
not
been
in
the
West
End
on
a
weekday
at
this
hour
for
years
,
than
to
keep
looking
at
the
sky
,
looking
at
this
,
that
and
the
other
,
as
if
Portland
Place
were
a
room
he
had
come
into
when
the
family
are
away
,
the
chandeliers
being
hung
in
holland
bags
,
and
the
caretaker
,
as
she
lets
in
long
shafts
of
dusty
light
upon
deserted
,
queer-looking
armchairs
,
lifting
one
corner
of
the
long
blinds
,
explains
to
the
visitors
what
a
wonderful
place
it
is
;
how
wonderful
,
but
at
the
same
time
,
he
thinks
,
as
he
looks
at
chairs
and
tables
,
how
strange
.
To
look
at
,
he
might
have
been
a
clerk
,
but
of
the
better
sort
;
for
he
wore
brown
boots
;
his
hands
were
educated
;
so
,
too
,
his
profile
--
his
angular
,
big-nosed
,
intelligent
,
sensitive
profile
;
but
not
his
lips
altogether
,
for
they
were
loose
;
and
his
eyes
(
as
eyes
tend
to
be
)
,
eyes
merely
;
hazel
,
large
;
so
that
he
was
,
on
the
whole
,
a
border
case
,
neither
one
thing
nor
the
other
,
might
end
with
a
house
at
Purley
and
a
motor
car
,
or
continue
renting
apartments
in
back
streets
all
his
life
;
one
of
those
half-educated
,
self-educated
men
whose
education
is
all
learnt
from
books
borrowed
from
public
libraries
,
read
in
the
evening
after
the
day
's
work
,
on
the
advice
of
well-known
authors
consulted
by
letter
.
As
for
the
other
experiences
,
the
solitary
ones
,
which
people
go
through
alone
,
in
their
bedrooms
,
in
their
offices
,
walking
the
fields
and
the
streets
of
London
,
he
had
them
;
had
left
home
,
a
mere
boy
,
because
of
his
mother
;
she
lied
;
because
he
came
down
to
tea
for
the
fiftieth
time
with
his
hands
unwashed
;
because
he
could
see
no
future
for
a
poet
in
Stroud
;
and
so
,
making
a
confidant
of
his
little
sister
,
had
gone
to
London
leaving
an
absurd
note
behind
him
,
such
as
great
men
have
written
,
and
the
world
has
read
later
when
the
story
of
their
struggles
has
become
famous
.
London
has
swallowed
up
many
millions
of
young
men
called
Smith
;
thought
nothing
of
fantastic
Christian
names
like
Septimus
with
which
their
parents
have
thought
to
distinguish
them
.
Lodging
off
the
Euston
Road
,
there
were
experiences
,
again
experiences
,
such
as
change
a
face
in
two
years
from
a
pink
innocent
oval
to
a
face
lean
,
contracted
,
hostile
.
But
of
all
this
what
could
the
most
observant
of
friends
have
said
except
what
a
gardener
says
when
he
opens
the
conservatory
door
in
the
morning
and
finds
a
new
blossom
on
his
plant
:
--
It
has
flowered
;
flowered
from
vanity
,
ambition
,
idealism
,
passion
,
loneliness
,
courage
,
laziness
,
the
usual
seeds
,
which
all
muddled
up
(
in
a
room
off
the
Euston
Road
)
,
made
him
shy
,
and
stammering
,
made
him
anxious
to
improve
himself
,
made
him
fall
in
love
with
Miss
Isabel
Pole
,
lecturing
in
the
Waterloo
Road
upon
Shakespeare
.
