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- Вирджиния Вульф
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- Миссис Дэллоуэй
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- Стр. 86/96
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"
It
is
angelic
--
it
is
delicious
of
you
to
have
come
!
"
she
said
.
She
loved
Lords
;
she
loved
youth
,
and
Nancy
,
dressed
at
enormous
expense
by
the
greatest
artists
in
Paris
,
stood
there
looking
as
if
her
body
had
merely
put
forth
,
of
its
own
accord
,
a
green
frill
.
"
I
had
meant
to
have
dancing
,
"
said
Clarissa
.
For
the
young
people
could
not
talk
.
And
why
should
they
?
Shout
,
embrace
,
swing
,
be
up
at
dawn
;
carry
sugar
to
ponies
;
kiss
and
caress
the
snouts
of
adorable
chows
;
and
then
all
tingling
and
streaming
,
plunge
and
swim
.
But
the
enormous
resources
of
the
English
language
,
the
power
it
bestows
,
after
all
,
of
communicating
feelings
(
at
their
age
,
she
and
Peter
would
have
been
arguing
all
the
evening
)
,
was
not
for
them
.
They
would
solidify
young
.
They
would
be
good
beyond
measure
to
the
people
on
the
estate
,
but
alone
,
perhaps
,
rather
dull
.
"
What
a
pity
!
"
she
said
.
"
I
had
hoped
to
have
dancing
.
"
It
was
so
extraordinarily
nice
of
them
to
have
come
!
But
talk
of
dancing
!
The
rooms
were
packed
.
There
was
old
Aunt
Helena
in
her
shawl
.
Alas
,
she
must
leave
them
--
Lord
Gayton
and
Nancy
Blow
.
There
was
old
Miss
Parry
,
her
aunt
.
For
Miss
Helena
Parry
was
not
dead
:
Miss
Parry
was
alive
.
She
was
past
eighty
.
She
ascended
staircases
slowly
with
a
stick
.
She
was
placed
in
a
chair
(
Richard
had
seen
to
it
)
.
People
who
had
known
Burma
in
the
'
seventies
were
always
led
up
to
her
.
Where
had
Peter
got
to
?
They
used
to
be
such
friends
.
For
at
the
mention
of
India
,
or
even
Ceylon
,
her
eyes
(
only
one
was
glass
)
slowly
deepened
,
became
blue
,
beheld
,
not
human
beings
--
she
had
no
tender
memories
,
no
proud
illusions
about
Viceroys
,
Generals
,
Mutinies
--
it
was
orchids
she
saw
,
and
mountain
passes
and
herself
carried
on
the
backs
of
coolies
in
the
'
sixties
over
solitary
peaks
;
or
descending
to
uproot
orchids
(
startling
blossoms
,
never
beheld
before
)
which
she
painted
in
water-colour
;
an
indomitable
Englishwoman
,
fretful
if
disturbed
by
the
War
,
say
,
which
dropped
a
bomb
at
her
very
door
,
from
her
deep
meditation
over
orchids
and
her
own
figure
journeying
in
the
'
sixties
in
India
--
but
here
was
Peter
.
"
Come
and
talk
to
Aunt
Helena
about
Burma
,
"
said
Clarissa
.
And
yet
he
had
not
had
a
word
with
her
all
the
evening
!
"
We
will
talk
later
,
"
said
Clarissa
,
leading
him
up
to
Aunt
Helena
,
in
her
white
shawl
,
with
her
stick
.
