Місіс Деллоуей

           “Idon’tpitymyself,”shesaid.“Ipity”—shemeanttosay“yourmother”butno,shecouldnot,nottoElizabeth.“Ipityotherpeople,”shesaid,“more.”

           Likesomedumbcreaturewhohasbeenbroughtuptoagateforanunknownpurpose,andstandstherelongingtogallopaway,ElizabethDallowaysatsilent.WasMissKilmangoingtosayanythingmore?

           “Don’tquiteforgetme,”saidDorisKilman;hervoicequivered.Rightawaytotheendofthefieldthedumbcreaturegallopedinterror.

           Thegreathandopenedandshut.

           Elizabethturnedherhead.Thewaitresscame.Onehadtopayatthedesk,Elizabethsaid,andwentoff,drawingout,soMissKilmanfelt,theveryentrailsinherbody,stretchingthemasshecrossedtheroom,andthen,withafinaltwist,bowingherheadverypolitely,shewent.

           Shehadgone.MissKilmansatatthemarbletableamongtheéclairs,strickenonce,twice,thricebyshocksofsuffering.Shehadgone.Mrs.Dallowayhadtriumphed.Elizabethhadgone.Beautyhadgone,youthhadgone.

           Soshesat.