Миссис Дэллоуэй

           Ifhe’dhadaboyhe’dhavesaid,Work,work.ButhehadhisElizabeth;headoredhisElizabeth.

           “IshouldliketoseeMr.Dubonnet,”saidHughinhiscurtworldlyway.ItappearedthatthisDubonnethadthemeasurementsofMrs.Whitbread’sneck,or,morestrangelystill,knewherviewsuponSpanishjewelleryandtheextentofherpossessionsinthatline(whichHughcouldnotremember).AllofwhichseemedtoRichardDallowayawfullyodd.ForhenevergaveClarissapresents,exceptabracelettwoorthreeyearsago,whichhadnotbeenasuccess.Sheneverworeit.Itpainedhimtorememberthatsheneverworeit.Andasasinglespider’sthreadafterwaveringhereandthereattachesitselftothepointofaleaf,soRichard’smind,recoveringfromitslethargy,setnowonhiswife,Clarissa,whomPeterWalshhadlovedsopassionately;andRichardhadhadasuddenvisionofherthereatluncheon;ofhimselfandClarissa;oftheirlifetogether;andhedrewthetrayofoldjewelstowardshim,andtakingupfirstthisbroochthenthatring,“Howmuchisthat?”heasked,butdoubtedhisowntaste.Hewantedtoopenthedrawing-roomdoorandcomeinholdingoutsomething;apresentforClarissa.Onlywhat?ButHughwasonhislegsagain.Hewasunspeakablypompous.Really,afterdealinghereforthirty-fiveyearshewasnotgoingtobeputoffbyamereboywhodidnotknowhisbusiness.ForDubonnet,itseemed,wasout,andHughwouldnotbuyanythinguntilMr.