Миссис Дэллоуэй

           MillyBrushoncemightalmosthavefalleninlovewiththesesilences;andMr.Dallowaywasalwayssodependable;suchagentlemantoo.Now,beingforty,LadyBrutonhadonlytonod,orturnherheadalittleabruptly,andMillyBrushtookthesignal,howeverdeeplyshemightbesunkinthesereflectionsofadetachedspirit,ofanuncorruptedsoulwhomlifecouldnotbamboozle,becauselifehadnotofferedheratrinketoftheslightestvalue;notacurl,smile,lip,cheek,nose;nothingwhatever;LadyBrutonhadonlytonod,andPerkinswasinstructedtoquickenthecoffee.

           “Yes;PeterWalshhascomeback,”saidLadyBruton.Itwasvaguelyflatteringtothemall.Hehadcomeback,battered,unsuccessful,totheirsecureshores.Buttohelphim,theyreflected,wasimpossible;therewassomeflawinhischaracter.HughWhitbreadsaidonemightofcoursementionhisnametoSo-and-so.Hewrinkledlugubriously,consequentially,atthethoughtofthelettershewouldwritetotheheadsofGovernmentofficesabout“myoldfriend,PeterWalsh,”andsoon.Butitwouldn’tleadtoanything—nottoanythingpermanent,becauseofhischaracter.

           “Introublewithsomewoman,”saidLadyBruton.TheyhadallguessedthatTHATwasatthebottomofit.

           “However,”saidLadyBruton,anxioustoleavethesubject,“weshallhearthewholestoryfromPeterhimself.”

           (Thecoffeewasveryslowincoming.