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- Вирджиния Вульф
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- Миссис Дэллоуэй
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The
ladies
were
going
upstairs
already
,
said
Lucy
;
the
ladies
were
going
up
,
one
by
one
,
Mrs.
Dalloway
walking
last
and
almost
always
sending
back
some
message
to
the
kitchen
,
"
My
love
to
Mrs.
Walker
,
"
that
was
it
one
night
.
Next
morning
they
would
go
over
the
dishes
--
the
soup
,
the
salmon
;
the
salmon
,
Mrs.
Walker
knew
,
as
usual
underdone
,
for
she
always
got
nervous
about
the
pudding
and
left
it
to
Jenny
;
so
it
happened
,
the
salmon
was
always
underdone
.
But
some
lady
with
fair
hair
and
silver
ornaments
had
said
,
Lucy
said
,
about
the
entrée
,
was
it
really
made
at
home
?
But
it
was
the
salmon
that
bothered
Mrs.
Walker
,
as
she
spun
the
plates
round
and
round
,
and
pulled
in
dampers
and
pulled
out
dampers
;
and
there
came
a
burst
of
laughter
from
the
dining-room
;
a
voice
speaking
;
then
another
burst
of
laughter
--
the
gentlemen
enjoying
themselves
when
the
ladies
had
gone
.
The
tokay
,
said
Lucy
running
in
.
Mr.
Dalloway
had
sent
for
the
tokay
,
from
the
Emperor
's
cellars
,
the
Imperial
Tokay
.
It
was
borne
through
the
kitchen
.
Over
her
shoulder
Lucy
reported
how
Miss
Elizabeth
looked
quite
lovely
;
she
could
n't
take
her
eyes
off
her
;
in
her
pink
dress
,
wearing
the
necklace
Mr.
Dalloway
had
given
her
.
Jenny
must
remember
the
dog
,
Miss
Elizabeth
's
fox-terrier
,
which
,
since
it
bit
,
had
to
be
shut
up
and
might
,
Elizabeth
thought
,
want
something
.
Jenny
must
remember
the
dog
.
But
Jenny
was
not
going
upstairs
with
all
those
people
about
.
There
was
a
motor
at
the
door
already
!
There
was
a
ring
at
the
bell
--
and
the
gentlemen
still
in
the
dining-room
,
drinking
tokay
!
There
,
they
were
going
upstairs
;
that
was
the
first
to
come
,
and
now
they
would
come
faster
and
faster
,
so
that
Mrs.
Parkinson
(
hired
for
parties
)
would
leave
the
hall
door
ajar
,
and
the
hall
would
be
full
of
gentlemen
waiting
(
they
stood
waiting
,
sleeking
down
their
hair
)
while
the
ladies
took
their
cloaks
off
in
the
room
along
the
passage
;
where
Mrs.
Barnet
helped
them
,
old
Ellen
Barnet
,
who
had
been
with
the
family
for
forty
years
,
and
came
every
summer
to
help
the
ladies
,
and
remembered
mothers
when
they
were
girls
,
and
though
very
unassuming
did
shake
hands
;
said
"
milady
"
very
respectfully
,
yet
had
a
humorous
way
with
her
,
looking
at
the
young
ladies
,
and
ever
so
tactfully
helping
Lady
Lovejoy
,
who
had
some
trouble
with
her
underbodice
.
And
they
could
not
help
feeling
,
Lady
Lovejoy
and
Miss
Alice
,
that
some
little
privilege
in
the
matter
of
brush
and
comb
,
was
awarded
them
having
known
Mrs.
Barnet
--
"
thirty
years
,
milady
,
"
Mrs.
Barnet
supplied
her
.
Young
ladies
did
not
use
to
rouge
,
said
Lady
Lovejoy
,
when
they
stayed
at
Bourton
in
the
old
days
.
And
Miss
Alice
did
n't
need
rouge
,
said
Mrs.
Barnet
,
looking
at
her
fondly
.
There
Mrs.
Barnet
would
sit
,
in
the
cloakroom
,
patting
down
the
furs
,
smoothing
out
the
Spanish
shawls
,
tidying
the
dressing-table
,
and
knowing
perfectly
well
,
in
spite
of
the
furs
and
the
embroideries
,
which
were
nice
ladies
,
which
were
not
.
The
dear
old
body
,
said
Lady
Lovejoy
,
mounting
the
stairs
,
Clarissa
's
old
nurse
.
And
then
Lady
Lovejoy
stiffened
.
"
Lady
and
Miss
Lovejoy
,
"
she
said
to
Mr.
Wilkins
(
hired
for
parties
)
.
He
had
an
admirable
manner
,
as
he
bent
and
straightened
himself
,
bent
and
straightened
himself
and
announced
with
perfect
impartiality
"
Lady
and
Miss
Lovejoy
...
Sir
John
and
Lady
Needham
...
Miss
Weld
...
Mr.
Walsh
.
"
His
manner
was
admirable
;
his
family
life
must
be
irreproachable
,
except
that
it
seemed
impossible
that
a
being
with
greenish
lips
and
shaven
cheeks
could
ever
have
blundered
into
the
nuisance
of
children
.
"
How
delightful
to
see
you
!
"
said
Clarissa
.
She
said
it
to
every
one
.
How
delightful
to
see
you
!
She
was
at
her
worst
--
effusive
,
insincere
.
It
was
a
great
mistake
to
have
come
.
He
should
have
stayed
at
home
and
read
his
book
,
thought
Peter
Walsh
;
should
have
gone
to
a
music
hall
;
he
should
have
stayed
at
home
,
for
he
knew
no
one
.
Oh
dear
,
it
was
going
to
be
a
failure
;
a
complete
failure
,
Clarissa
felt
it
in
her
bones
as
dear
old
Lord
Lexham
stood
there
apologising
for
his
wife
who
had
caught
cold
at
the
Buckingham
Palace
garden
party
.
She
could
see
Peter
out
of
the
tail
of
her
eye
,
criticising
her
,
there
,
in
that
corner
.
Why
,
after
all
,
did
she
do
these
things
?
Why
seek
pinnacles
and
stand
drenched
in
fire
?
Might
it
consume
her
anyhow
!
Burn
her
to
cinders
!
Better
anything
,
better
brandish
one
's
torch
and
hurl
it
to
earth
than
taper
and
dwindle
away
like
some
Ellie
Henderson
!
It
was
extraordinary
how
Peter
put
her
into
these
states
just
by
coming
and
standing
in
a
corner
.
He
made
her
see
herself
;
exaggerate
.
It
was
idiotic
.
But
why
did
he
come
,
then
,
merely
to
criticise
?
Why
always
take
,
never
give
?
Why
not
risk
one
's
one
little
point
of
view
?
There
he
was
wandering
off
,
and
she
must
speak
to
him
.
But
she
would
not
get
the
chance
.
Life
was
that
--
humiliation
,
renunciation
.
What
Lord
Lexham
was
saying
was
that
his
wife
would
not
wear
her
furs
at
the
garden
party
because
"
my
dear
,
you
ladies
are
all
alike
"
--
Lady
Lexham
being
seventy-five
at
least
!
It
was
delicious
,
how
they
petted
each
other
,
that
old
couple
.
She
did
like
old
Lord
Lexham
.
She
did
think
it
mattered
,
her
party
,
and
it
made
her
feel
quite
sick
to
know
that
it
was
all
going
wrong
,
all
falling
flat
.
Anything
,
any
explosion
,
any
horror
was
better
than
people
wandering
aimlessly
,
standing
in
a
bunch
at
a
corner
like
Ellie
Henderson
,
not
even
caring
to
hold
themselves
upright
.
