Voiceswereheardattheendofthecorridor。Mrs。Ambrosewasspeakinglow；WilliamPepperwasremarkinginhisdefiniteandratheracidvoice，“ThatisthetypeofladywithwhomIfindmyselfdistinctlyoutofsympathy。She——“

ButneitherRichardnorClarissaprofitedbytheverdict，fordirectlyitseemedlikelythattheywouldoverhear，Richardcrackledasheetofpaper。

“Ioftenwonder，“Clarissamusedinbed，overthelittlewhitevolumeofPascalwhichwentwithhereverywhere，“whetheritisreallygoodforawomantolivewithamanwhoismorallyhersuperior，asRichardismine。Itmakesonesodependent。IsupposeIfeelforhimwhatmymotherandwomenofhergenerationfeltforChrist。

Itjustshowsthatonecan’tdowithout_something_。“Shethenfellintoasleep，whichwasasusualextremelysoundandrefreshing，butvisitedbyfantasticdreamsofgreatGreeklettersstalkingroundtheroom，whenshewokeupandlaughedtoherself，rememberingwhereshewasandthattheGreekletterswererealpeople，lyingasleepnotmanyyardsaway。Then，thinkingoftheblackseaoutsidetossingbeneaththemoon，sheshuddered，andthoughtofherhusbandandtheothersascompanionsonthevoyage。

Thedreamswerenotconfinedtoherindeed，butwentfromonebraintoanother。Theyalldreamtofeachotherthatnight，aswasnatural，consideringhowthinthepartitionswerebetweenthem，andhowstrangelytheyhadbeenliftedofftheearthtositnexteachotherinmid-ocean，andseeeverydetailofeachother’sfaces，andhearwhatevertheychancedtosay。

NextmorningClarissawasupbeforeanyoneelse。Shedressed，andwasoutondeck，breathingthefreshairofacalmmorning，and，makingthecircuitoftheshipforthesecondtime，sheranstraightintotheleanpersonofMr。Grice，thesteward。

Sheapologised，andatthesametimeaskedhimtoenlightenher:

whatwerethoseshinybrassstandsfor，halfglassonthetop？

Shehadbeenwondering，andcouldnotguess。Whenhehaddoneexplaining，shecriedenthusiastically:

“Idothinkthattobeasailormustbethefinestthingintheworld！“

“Andwhatd’youknowaboutit？“saidMr。Grice，kindlinginastrangemanner。“Pardonme。WhatdoesanymanorwomanbroughtupinEnglandknowaboutthesea？Theyprofesstoknow；buttheydon’t。“

Thebitternesswithwhichhespokewasominousofwhatwastocome。

Heledherofftohisownquarters，and，sittingontheedgeofabrass-boundtable，lookinguncommonlylikeasea-gull，withherwhitetaperingbodyandthinalertface，Mrs。Dallowayhadtolistentothetiradeofafanaticalman。Didsherealise，tobeginwith，whataverysmallpartoftheworldthelandwas？

Howpeaceful，howbeautiful，howbenignantincomparisonthesea？

ThedeepwaterscouldsustainEuropeunaidedifeveryearthlyanimaldiedoftheplagueto-morrow。Mr。Gricerecalleddreadfulsightswhichhehadseenintherichestcityoftheworld——menandwomenstandinginlinehourafterhourtoreceiveamugofgreasysoup。

“AndIthoughtofthegoodfleshdownherewaitingandaskingtobecaught。I’mnotexactlyaProtestant，andI’mnotaCatholic，butIcouldalmostprayforthedaysofpoperytocomeagain——

becauseofthefasts。“

Ashetalkedhekeptopeningdrawersandmovinglittleglassjars。

Herewerethetreasureswhichthegreatoceanhadbestoweduponhim——

palefishingreenishliquids，blobsofjellywithstreamingtresses，fishwithlightsintheirheads，theylivedsodeep。

“Theyhaveswumaboutamongbones，“Clarissasighed。

“You’rethinkingofShakespeare，“saidMr。Grice，andtakingdownacopyfromashelfwelllinedwithbooks，recitedinanemphaticnasalvoice:

Fullfathomfivethyfatherlies，“Agrandfellow，Shakespeare，“hesaid，replacingthevolume。

Clarissawassogladtohearhimsayso。

“Whichisyourfavouriteplay？Iwonderifit’sthesameasmine？“

“_HenrytheFifth_，“saidMr。Grice。

“Joy！“criedClarissa。“Itis！“

_Hamlet_waswhatyoumightcalltoointrospectiveforMr。Grice，thesonnetstoopassionate；HenrytheFifthwastohimthemodelofanEnglishgentleman。ButhisfavouritereadingwasHuxley，HerbertSpencer，andHenryGeorge；whileEmersonandThomasHardyhereadforrelaxation。HewasgivingMrs。DallowayhisviewsuponthepresentstateofEnglandwhenthebreakfastbellrungsoimperiouslythatshehadtotearherselfaway，promisingtocomebackandbeshownhissea-weeds。

Theparty，whichhadseemedsooddtoherthenightbefore，wasalreadygatheredroundthetable，stillundertheinfluenceofsleep，andthereforeuncommunicative，butherentrancesentalittleflutterlikeabreathofairthroughthemall。

“I’vehadthemostinterestingtalkofmylife！“sheexclaimed，takingherseatbesideWilloughby。“D’yourealisethatoneofyourmenisaphilosopherandapoet？“

“Averyinterestingfellow——that’swhatIalwayssay，“saidWilloughby，distinguishingMr。Grice。“ThoughRachelfindshimabore。“

“He’saborewhenhetalksaboutcurrents，“saidRachel。Hereyeswerefullofsleep，butMrs。Dallowaystillseemedtoherwonderful。

“I’venevermetaboreyet！“saidClarissa。

“AndIshouldsaytheworldwasfullofthem！“exclaimedHelen。

Butherbeauty，whichwasradiantinthemorninglight，tookthecontrarinessfromherwords。

“Iagreethatit’stheworstonecanpossiblysayofanyone，“

saidClarissa。“Howmuchratheronewouldbeamurdererthanabore！“

sheadded，withherusualairofsayingsomethingprofound。

“Onecanfancylikingamurderer。It’sthesamewithdogs。

Somedogsareawfulbores，poordears。“

IthappenedthatRichardwassittingnexttoRachel。Shewascuriouslyconsciousofhispresenceandappearance——hiswell-cutclothes，hiscracklingshirt-front，hiscuffswithblueringsroundthem，andthesquare-tipped，verycleanfingerswiththeredstoneonthelittlefingerofthelefthand。

“Wehadadogwhowasaboreandknewit，“hesaid，addressingherincool，easytones。“HewasaSkyeterrier，oneofthoselongchaps，withlittlefeetpokingoutfromtheirhairlike——

likecaterpillars——no，likesofasIshouldsay。Well，wehadanotherdogatthesametime，ablackbriskanimal——aSchipperke，Ithink，youcallthem。Youcan’timagineagreatercontrast。TheSkyesoslowanddeliberate，lookingupatyoulikesomeoldgentlemanintheclub，asmuchastosay，“Youdon’treallymeanit，doyou？“

andtheSchipperkeasquickasaknife。IlikedtheSkyebest，Imustconfess。Therewassomethingpatheticabouthim。“

Thestoryseemedtohavenoclimax。

“Whathappenedtohim？“Rachelasked。

“That’saverysadstory，“saidRichard，loweringhisvoiceandpeelinganapple。“Hefollowedmywifeinthecaronedayandgotrunoverbyabruteofacyclist。“

“Washekilled？“askedRachel。

ButClarissaatherendofthetablehadoverheard。

“Don’ttalkofit！“shecried。“It’sathingIcan’tbeartothinkoftothisday。“

Surelythetearsstoodinhereyes？

“That’sthepainfulthingaboutpets，“saidMr。Dalloway；“theydie。

ThefirstsorrowIcanrememberwasforthedeathofadormouse。

IregrettosaythatIsatuponit。Still，thatdidn’tmakeoneanythelesssorry。HereliestheduckthatSamuelJohnsonsaton，eh？

Iwasbigformyage。“

“Thenwehadcanaries，“hecontinued，“apairofring-doves，alemur，andatonetimeamartin。“

“Didyouliveinthecountry？“Rachelaskedhim。

“Welivedinthecountryforsixmonthsoftheyear。WhenIsay’we’Imeanfoursisters，abrother，andmyself。There’snothinglikecomingofalargefamily。Sistersparticularlyaredelightful。“

“Dick，youwerehorriblyspoilt！“criedClarissaacrossthetable。

“No，no。Appreciated，“saidRichard。

Rachelhadotherquestionsonthetipofhertongue；orratheroneenormousquestion，whichshedidnotintheleastknowhowtoputintowords。Thetalkappearedtooairytoadmitofit。

“Pleasetellme——everything。“Thatwaswhatshewantedtosay。

Hehaddrawnapartonelittlechinkandshowedastonishingtreasures。

Itseemedtoherincrediblethatamanlikethatshouldbewillingtotalktoher。Hehadsistersandpets，andoncelivedinthecountry。

Shestirredhertearoundandround；thebubbleswhichswamandclusteredinthecupseemedtoherliketheunionoftheirminds。

Thetalkmeanwhileracedpasther，andwhenRichardsuddenlystatedinajoculartoneofvoice，“I’msureMissVinrace，now，hassecretleaningstowardsCatholicism，“shehadnoideawhattoanswer，andHelencouldnothelplaughingatthestartshegave。

However，breakfastwasoverandMrs。Dallowaywasrising。

“Ialwaysthinkreligion’slikecollectingbeetles，“shesaid，summingupthediscussionasshewentupthestairswithHelen。

“Onepersonhasapassionforblackbeetles；anotherhasn’t；it’snogoodarguingaboutit。What’s_your_blackbeetlenow？“

“Isupposeit’smychildren，“saidHelen。

“Ah——that’sdifferent，“Clarissabreathed。“Dotellme。

Youhaveaboy，haven’tyou？Isn’titdetestable，leavingthem？“

Itwasasthoughablueshadowhadfallenacrossapool。

Theireyesbecamedeeper，andtheirvoicesmorecordial。

Insteadofjoiningthemastheybegantopacethedeck，Rachelwasindignantwiththeprosperousmatrons，whomadeherfeeloutsidetheirworldandmotherless，andturningback，sheleftthemabruptly。

Sheslammedthedoorofherroom，andpulledouthermusic。

Itwasalloldmusic——BachandBeethoven，MozartandPurcell——

thepagesyellow，theengravingroughtothefinger。Inthreeminutesshewasdeepinaverydifficult，veryclassicalfugueinA，andoverherfacecameaqueerremoteimpersonalexpressionofcompleteabsorptionandanxioussatisfaction。Nowshestumbled；

nowshefalteredandhadtoplaythesamebartwiceover；butaninvisiblelineseemedtostringthenotestogether，fromwhichroseashape，abuilding。Shewassofarabsorbedinthiswork，foritwasreallydifficulttofindhowallthesesoundsshouldstandtogether，anddrewuponthewholeofherfaculties，thatsheneverheardaknockatthedoor。Itwasburstimpulsivelyopen，andMrs。Dallowaystoodintheroomleavingthedooropen，sothatastripofthewhitedeckandoftheblueseaappearedthroughtheopening。TheshapeoftheBachfuguecrashedtotheground。

“Don’tletmeinterrupt，“Clarissaimplored。“Iheardyouplaying，andIcouldn’tresist。IadoreBach！“

Rachelflushedandfumbledherfingersinherlap。Shestoodupawkwardly。

“It’stoodifficult，“shesaid。

“Butyouwereplayingquitesplendidly！Ioughttohavestayedoutside。“

“No，“saidRachel。

Sheslid_Cowper’s__Letters_and_Wuthering__Heights_outofthearm-chair，sothatClarissawasinvitedtositthere。

“Whatadearlittleroom！“shesaid，lookinground。

“Oh，_Cowper’s__Letters>！“I’veneverreadthem。Aretheynice？“

“Ratherdull，“saidRachel。

“Hewroteawfullywell，didn’the？“saidClarissa；“——ifonelikesthatkindofthing——finishedhissentencesandallthat。

_Wuthering__Heights_！Ah——that’smoreinmyline。Ireallycouldn’texistwithouttheBrontes！Don’tyoulovethem？Still，onthewhole，I’dratherlivewithoutthemthanwithoutJaneAusten。“

Lightlyandatrandomthoughshespoke，hermannerconveyedanextraordinarydegreeofsympathyanddesiretobefriend。

“JaneAusten？Idon’tlikeJaneAusten，“saidRachel。

“Youmonster！“Clarissaexclaimed。“Icanonlyjustforgiveyou。