Миссис Дэллоуэй

           Paul’s,shyly,likesomeonepenetratingontiptoe,exploringastrangehousebynightwithacandle,onedgelesttheownershouldsuddenlyflingwidehisbedroomdoorandaskherbusiness,nordidshedarewanderoffintoqueeralleys,temptingbye-streets,anymorethaninastrangehouseopendoorswhichmightbebedroomdoors,orsitting-roomdoors,orleadstraighttothelarder.FornoDallowayscamedowntheStranddaily;shewasapioneer,astray,venturing,trusting.

           Inmanyways,hermotherfelt,shewasextremelyimmature,likeachildstill,attachedtodolls,tooldslippers;aperfectbaby;andthatwascharming.Butthen,ofcourse,therewasintheDallowayfamilythetraditionofpublicservice.Abbesses,principals,headmistresses,dignitaries,intherepublicofwomen—withoutbeingbrilliant,anyofthem,theywerethat.ShepenetratedalittlefurtherinthedirectionofSt.Paul’s.Shelikedthegeniality,sisterhood,motherhood,brotherhoodofthisuproar.Itseemedtohergood.Thenoisewastremendous;andsuddenlythereweretrumpets(theunemployed)blaring,rattlingaboutintheuproar;militarymusic;asifpeopleweremarching;yethadtheybeendying—hadsomewomanbreathedherlastandwhoeverwaswatching,openingthewindowoftheroomwhereshehadjustbroughtoffthatactofsupremedignity,lookeddownonFleetStreet,thatuproar,thatmilitarymusicwouldhavecometriumphinguptohim,consolatory,indifferent.

           Itwasnotconscious.