-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Вирджиния Вульф
-
- Миссис Дэллоуэй
-
- Стр. 52/96
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
I
met
Clarissa
in
the
Park
this
morning
,
"
said
Hugh
Whitbread
,
diving
into
the
casserole
,
anxious
to
pay
himself
this
little
tribute
,
for
he
had
only
to
come
to
London
and
he
met
everybody
at
once
;
but
greedy
,
one
of
the
greediest
men
she
had
ever
known
,
Milly
Brush
thought
,
who
observed
men
with
unflinching
rectitude
,
and
was
capable
of
everlasting
devotion
,
to
her
own
sex
in
particular
,
being
knobbed
,
scraped
,
angular
,
and
entirely
without
feminine
charm
.
"
D'you
know
who
's
in
town
?
"
said
Lady
Bruton
suddenly
bethinking
her
.
"
Our
old
friend
,
Peter
Walsh
.
"
They
all
smiled
.
Peter
Walsh
!
And
Mr.
Dalloway
was
genuinely
glad
,
Milly
Brush
thought
;
and
Mr.
Whitbread
thought
only
of
his
chicken
.
Peter
Walsh
!
All
three
,
Lady
Bruton
,
Hugh
Whitbread
,
and
Richard
Dalloway
,
remembered
the
same
thing
--
how
passionately
Peter
had
been
in
love
;
been
rejected
;
gone
to
India
;
come
a
cropper
;
made
a
mess
of
things
;
and
Richard
Dalloway
had
a
very
great
liking
for
the
dear
old
fellow
too
.
Milly
Brush
saw
that
;
saw
a
depth
in
the
brown
of
his
eyes
;
saw
him
hesitate
;
consider
;
which
interested
her
,
as
Mr.
Dalloway
always
interested
her
,
for
what
was
he
thinking
,
she
wondered
,
about
Peter
Walsh
?
That
Peter
Walsh
had
been
in
love
with
Clarissa
;
that
he
would
go
back
directly
after
lunch
and
find
Clarissa
;
that
he
would
tell
her
,
in
so
many
words
,
that
he
loved
her
.
Yes
,
he
would
say
that
.
Milly
Brush
once
might
almost
have
fallen
in
love
with
these
silences
;
and
Mr.
Dalloway
was
always
so
dependable
;
such
a
gentleman
too
.
Now
,
being
forty
,
Lady
Bruton
had
only
to
nod
,
or
turn
her
head
a
little
abruptly
,
and
Milly
Brush
took
the
signal
,
however
deeply
she
might
be
sunk
in
these
reflections
of
a
detached
spirit
,
of
an
uncorrupted
soul
whom
life
could
not
bamboozle
,
because
life
had
not
offered
her
a
trinket
of
the
slightest
value
;
not
a
curl
,
smile
,
lip
,
cheek
,
nose
;
nothing
whatever
;
Lady
Bruton
had
only
to
nod
,
and
Perkins
was
instructed
to
quicken
the
coffee
.
"
Yes
;
Peter
Walsh
has
come
back
,
"
said
Lady
Bruton
.
It
was
vaguely
flattering
to
them
all
.
He
had
come
back
,
battered
,
unsuccessful
,
to
their
secure
shores
.
But
to
help
him
,
they
reflected
,
was
impossible
;
there
was
some
flaw
in
his
character
.
Hugh
Whitbread
said
one
might
of
course
mention
his
name
to
So-and-so
.
He
wrinkled
lugubriously
,
consequentially
,
at
the
thought
of
the
letters
he
would
write
to
the
heads
of
Government
offices
about
"
my
old
friend
,
Peter
Walsh
,
"
and
so
on
.
But
it
would
n't
lead
to
anything
--
not
to
anything
permanent
,
because
of
his
character
.
"
In
trouble
with
some
woman
,
"
said
Lady
Bruton
.
They
had
all
guessed
that
THAT
was
at
the
bottom
of
it
.
"
However
,
"
said
Lady
Bruton
,
anxious
to
leave
the
subject
,
"
we
shall
hear
the
whole
story
from
Peter
himself
.
"
(
The
coffee
was
very
slow
in
coming
.