Миссис Дэллоуэй

           Shehadinfluencedhimmorethananypersonhehadeverknown.Andalwaysinthiswaycomingbeforehimwithouthiswishingit,cool,lady-like,critical;orravishing,romantic,recallingsomefieldorEnglishharvest.Hesawhermostofteninthecountry,notinLondon.OnesceneafteranotheratBourton....

           Hehadreachedhishotel.Hecrossedthehall,withitsmoundsofreddishchairsandsofas,itsspike-leaved,withered-lookingplants.Hegothiskeyoffthehook.Theyoungladyhandedhimsomeletters.Hewentupstairs—hesawhermostoftenatBourton,inthelatesummer,whenhestayedthereforaweek,orfortnighteven,aspeopledidinthosedays.Firstontopofsomehillthereshewouldstand,handsclappedtoherhair,hercloakblowingout,pointing,cryingtothem—shesawtheSevernbeneath.Orinawood,makingthekettleboil—veryineffectivewithherfingers;thesmokecurtseying,blowingintheirfaces;herlittlepinkfaceshowingthrough;beggingwaterfromanoldwomaninacottage,whocametothedoortowatchthemgo.Theywalkedalways;theothersdrove.Shewasboreddriving,dislikedallanimals,exceptthatdog.Theytrampedmilesalongroads.