Місіс Деллоуей

           Thatwasalmostthefirstthingshehadfeltabouthim,thatnightinthecaféwhenhehadcomeinwithhisEnglishfriends.Hehadcomein,rathershyly,lookingroundhim,andhishathadfallenwhenhehungitup.Thatshecouldremember.SheknewhewasEnglish,thoughnotoneofthelargeEnglishmenhersisteradmired,forhewasalwaysthin;buthehadabeautifulfreshcolour;andwithhisbignose,hisbrighteyes,hiswayofsittingalittlehunchedmadeherthink,shehadoftentoldhim,ofayounghawk,thatfirsteveningshesawhim,whentheywereplayingdominoes,andhehadcomein—ofayounghawk;butwithherhewasalwaysverygentle.Shehadneverseenhimwildordrunk,onlysufferingsometimesthroughthisterriblewar,butevenso,whenshecamein,hewouldputitallaway.Anything,anythinginthewholeworld,anylittlebotherwithherwork,anythingthatstruckhertosayshewouldtellhim,andheunderstoodatonce.Herownfamilyevenwerenotthesame.Beingolderthanshewasandbeingsoclever—howserioushewas,wantinghertoreadShakespearebeforeshecouldevenreadachild’sstoryinEnglish!—beingsomuchmoreexperienced,hecouldhelpher.Andshetoocouldhelphim.

           Butthishatnow.Andthen(itwasgettinglate)SirWilliamBradshaw.