Миссис Дэллоуэй
WasittheQueeninthere—theQueengoingshopping?
Thechauffeur,whohadbeenopeningsomething,turningsomething,shuttingsomething,gotontothebox.
“Comeon,”saidLucrezia.
Butherhusband,fortheyhadbeenmarriedfour,fiveyearsnow,jumped,started,andsaid,“Allright!”angrily,asifshehadinterruptedhim.
Peoplemustnotice;peoplemustsee.People,shethought,lookingatthecrowdstaringatthemotorcar;theEnglishpeople,withtheirchildrenandtheirhorsesandtheirclothes,whichsheadmiredinaway;buttheywere“people”now,becauseSeptimushadsaid,“Iwillkillmyself”;anawfulthingtosay.Supposetheyhadheardhim?Shelookedatthecrowd.Help,help!shewantedtocryouttobutchers’boysandwomen.Help!OnlylastautumnsheandSeptimushadstoodontheEmbankmentwrappedinthesamecloakand,Septimusreadingapaperinsteadoftalking,shehadsnatcheditfromhimandlaughedintheoldman’sfacewhosawthem!Butfailureoneconceals.Shemusttakehimawayintosomepark.
“Nowwewillcross,”shesaid.
Shehadarighttohisarm,thoughitwaswithoutfeeling.Hewouldgiveher,whowassosimple,soimpulsive,onlytwenty-four,withoutfriendsinEngland,whohadleftItalyforhissake,apieceofbone.
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