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- Вирджиния Вульф
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- Миссис Дэллоуэй
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- Стр. 78/96
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It
was
not
that
he
said
anything
,
for
being
solitary
he
could
only
address
himself
to
the
waiter
;
it
was
his
way
of
looking
at
the
menu
,
of
pointing
his
forefinger
to
a
particular
wine
,
of
hitching
himself
up
to
the
table
,
of
addressing
himself
seriously
,
not
gluttonously
to
dinner
,
that
won
him
their
respect
;
which
,
having
to
remain
unexpressed
for
the
greater
part
of
the
meal
,
flared
up
at
the
table
where
the
Morrises
sat
when
Mr.
Walsh
was
heard
to
say
at
the
end
of
the
meal
,
"
Bartlett
pears
.
"
Why
he
should
have
spoken
so
moderately
yet
firmly
,
with
the
air
of
a
disciplinarian
well
within
his
rights
which
are
founded
upon
justice
,
neither
young
Charles
Morris
,
nor
old
Charles
,
neither
Miss
Elaine
nor
Mrs.
Morris
knew
.
But
when
he
said
,
"
Bartlett
pears
,
"
sitting
alone
at
his
table
,
they
felt
that
he
counted
on
their
support
in
some
lawful
demand
;
was
champion
of
a
cause
which
immediately
became
their
own
,
so
that
their
eyes
met
his
eyes
sympathetically
,
and
when
they
all
reached
the
smoking-room
simultaneously
,
a
little
talk
between
them
became
inevitable
.
It
was
not
very
profound
--
only
to
the
effect
that
London
was
crowded
;
had
changed
in
thirty
years
;
that
Mr.
Morris
preferred
Liverpool
;
that
Mrs.
Morris
had
been
to
the
Westminster
flower-show
,
and
that
they
had
all
seen
the
Prince
of
Wales
.
Yet
,
thought
Peter
Walsh
,
no
family
in
the
world
can
compare
with
the
Morrises
;
none
whatever
;
and
their
relations
to
each
other
are
perfect
,
and
they
do
n't
care
a
hang
for
the
upper
classes
,
and
they
like
what
they
like
,
and
Elaine
is
training
for
the
family
business
,
and
the
boy
has
won
a
scholarship
at
Leeds
,
and
the
old
lady
(
who
is
about
his
own
age
)
has
three
more
children
at
home
;
and
they
have
two
motor
cars
,
but
Mr.
Morris
still
mends
the
boots
on
Sunday
:
it
is
superb
,
it
is
absolutely
superb
,
thought
Peter
Walsh
,
swaying
a
little
backwards
and
forwards
with
his
liqueur
glass
in
his
hand
among
the
hairy
red
chairs
and
ash-trays
,
feeling
very
well
pleased
with
himself
,
for
the
Morrises
liked
him
.
Yes
,
they
liked
a
man
who
said
,
"
Bartlett
pears
.
"
They
liked
him
,
he
felt
.
He
would
go
to
Clarissa
's
party
.
(
The
Morrises
moved
off
;
but
they
would
meet
again
.
)
He
would
go
to
Clarissa
's
party
,
because
he
wanted
to
ask
Richard
what
they
were
doing
in
India
--
the
conservative
duffers
.
And
what
's
being
acted
?
And
music
...
Oh
yes
,
and
mere
gossip
.
For
this
is
the
truth
about
our
soul
,
he
thought
,
our
self
,
who
fish-like
inhabits
deep
seas
and
plies
among
obscurities
threading
her
way
between
the
boles
of
giant
weeds
,
over
sun-flickered
spaces
and
on
and
on
into
gloom
,
cold
,
deep
,
inscrutable
;
suddenly
she
shoots
to
the
surface
and
sports
on
the
wind-wrinkled
waves
;
that
is
,
has
a
positive
need
to
brush
,
scrape
,
kindle
herself
,
gossiping
.
What
did
the
Government
mean
--
Richard
Dalloway
would
know
--
to
do
about
India
?
Since
it
was
a
very
hot
night
and
the
paper
boys
went
by
with
placards
proclaiming
in
huge
red
letters
that
there
was
a
heat-wave
,
wicker
chairs
were
placed
on
the
hotel
steps
and
there
,
sipping
,
smoking
,
detached
gentlemen
sat
.
Peter
Walsh
sat
there
.
One
might
fancy
that
day
,
the
London
day
,
was
just
beginning
.
Like
a
woman
who
had
slipped
off
her
print
dress
and
white
apron
to
array
herself
in
blue
and
pearls
,
the
day
changed
,
put
off
stuff
,
took
gauze
,
changed
to
evening
,
and
with
the
same
sigh
of
exhilaration
that
a
woman
breathes
,
tumbling
petticoats
on
the
floor
,
it
too
shed
dust
,
heat
,
colour
;
the
traffic
thinned
;
motor
cars
,
tinkling
,
darting
,
succeeded
the
lumber
of
vans
;
and
here
and
there
among
the
thick
foliage
of
the
squares
an
intense
light
hung
.
I
resign
,
the
evening
seemed
to
say
,
as
it
paled
and
faded
above
the
battlements
and
prominences
,
moulded
,
pointed
,
of
hotel
,
flat
,
and
block
of
shops
,
I
fade
,
she
was
beginning
,
I
disappear
,
but
London
would
have
none
of
it
,
and
rushed
her
bayonets
into
the
sky
,
pinioned
her
,
constrained
her
to
partnership
in
her
revelry
.
For
the
great
revolution
of
Mr.
Willett
's
summer
time
had
taken
place
since
Peter
Walsh
's
last
visit
to
England
.
The
prolonged
evening
was
new
to
him
.
It
was
inspiriting
,
rather
.
For
as
the
young
people
went
by
with
their
despatch-boxes
,
awfully
glad
to
be
free
,
proud
too
,
dumbly
,
of
stepping
this
famous
pavement
,
joy
of
a
kind
,
cheap
,
tinselly
,
if
you
like
,
but
all
the
same
rapture
,
flushed
their
faces
.
They
dressed
well
too
;
pink
stockings
;
pretty
shoes
.
They
would
now
have
two
hours
at
the
pictures
.
It
sharpened
,
it
refined
them
,
the
yellow-blue
evening
light
;
and
on
the
leaves
in
the
square
shone
lurid
,
livid
--
they
looked
as
if
dipped
in
sea
water
--
the
foliage
of
a
submerged
city
.
He
was
astonished
by
the
beauty
;
it
was
encouraging
too
,
for
where
the
returned
Anglo-Indian
sat
by
rights
(
he
knew
crowds
of
them
)
in
the
Oriental
Club
biliously
summing
up
the
ruin
of
the
world
,
here
was
he
,
as
young
as
ever
;
envying
young
people
their
summer
time
and
the
rest
of
it
,
and
more
than
suspecting
from
the
words
of
a
girl
,
from
a
housemaid
's
laughter
--
intangible
things
you
could
n't
lay
your
hands
on
--
that
shift
in
the
whole
pyramidal
accumulation
which
in
his
youth
had
seemed
immovable
.
On
top
of
them
it
had
pressed
;
weighed
them
down
,
the
women
especially
,
like
those
flowers
Clarissa
's
Aunt
Helena
used
to
press
between
sheets
of
grey
blotting-paper
with
Littré
'
s
dictionary
on
top
,
sitting
under
the
lamp
after
dinner
.
She
was
dead
now
.
He
had
heard
of
her
,
from
Clarissa
,
losing
the
sight
of
one
eye
.
It
seemed
so
fitting
--
one
of
nature
's
masterpieces
--
that
old
Miss
Parry
should
turn
to
glass
.
She
would
die
like
some
bird
in
a
frost
gripping
her
perch
.
She
belonged
to
a
different
age
,
but
being
so
entire
,
so
complete
,
would
always
stand
up
on
the
horizon
,
stone-white
,
eminent
,
like
a
lighthouse
marking
some
past
stage
on
this
adventurous
,
long
,
long
voyage
,
this
interminable
(
he
felt
for
a
copper
to
buy
a
paper
and
read
about
Surrey
and
Yorkshire
--
he
had
held
out
that
copper
millions
of
times
.
Surrey
was
all
out
once
more
)
--
this
interminable
life
.
But
cricket
was
no
mere
game
.
Cricket
was
important
.
He
could
never
help
reading
about
cricket
.
