Миссис Дэллоуэй

           “ImetClarissaintheParkthismorning,”saidHughWhitbread,divingintothecasserole,anxioustopayhimselfthislittletribute,forhehadonlytocometoLondonandhemeteverybodyatonce;butgreedy,oneofthegreediestmenshehadeverknown,MillyBrushthought,whoobservedmenwithunflinchingrectitude,andwascapableofeverlastingdevotion,toherownsexinparticular,beingknobbed,scraped,angular,andentirelywithoutfemininecharm.

           “D’youknowwho’sintown?”saidLadyBrutonsuddenlybethinkingher.“Ouroldfriend,PeterWalsh.”

           Theyallsmiled.PeterWalsh!AndMr.Dallowaywasgenuinelyglad,MillyBrushthought;andMr.Whitbreadthoughtonlyofhischicken.

           PeterWalsh!Allthree,LadyBruton,HughWhitbread,andRichardDalloway,rememberedthesamething—howpassionatelyPeterhadbeeninlove;beenrejected;gonetoIndia;comeacropper;madeamessofthings;andRichardDallowayhadaverygreatlikingforthedearoldfellowtoo.MillyBrushsawthat;sawadepthinthebrownofhiseyes;sawhimhesitate;consider;whichinterestedher,asMr.Dallowayalwaysinterestedher,forwhatwashethinking,shewondered,aboutPeterWalsh?

           ThatPeterWalshhadbeeninlovewithClarissa;thathewouldgobackdirectlyafterlunchandfindClarissa;thathewouldtellher,insomanywords,thathelovedher.Yes,hewouldsaythat.