Місіс Деллоуей

           Therewasnorecognitioninitofonefortune,orfate,andforthatveryreasoneventothosedazedwithwatchingforthelastshiversofconsciousnessonthefacesofthedying,consoling.Forgetfulnessinpeoplemightwound,theiringratitudecorrode,butthisvoice,pouringendlessly,yearinyearout,wouldtakewhateveritmightbe;thisvow;thisvan;thislife;thisprocession,wouldwrapthemallaboutandcarrythemon,asintheroughstreamofaglaciertheiceholdsasplinterofbone,abluepetal,someoaktrees,androllsthemon.

           Butitwaslaterthanshethought.Hermotherwouldnotlikehertobewanderingoffalonelikethis.SheturnedbackdowntheStrand.

           Apuffofwind(inspiteoftheheat,therewasquiteawind)blewathinblackveiloverthesunandovertheStrand.Thefacesfaded;theomnibusessuddenlylosttheirglow.Foralthoughthecloudswereofmountainouswhitesothatonecouldfancyhackinghardchipsoffwithahatchet,withbroadgoldenslopes,lawnsofcelestialpleasuregardens,ontheirflanks,andhadalltheappearanceofsettledhabitationsassembledfortheconferenceofgodsabovetheworld,therewasaperpetualmovementamongthem.Signswereinterchanged,when,asiftofulfilsomeschemearrangedalready,nowasummitdwindled,nowawholeblockofpyramidalsizewhichhadkeptitsstationinalterablyadvancedintothemidstorgravelyledtheprocessiontofreshanchorage.