Місіс Деллоуей

           Shemustbebraveanddrinksomething,hesaid(Whatwasit?Somethingsweet),forherhusbandwashorriblymangled,wouldnotrecoverconsciousness,shemustnotseehim,mustbesparedasmuchaspossible,wouldhavetheinquesttogothrough,pooryoungwoman.Whocouldhaveforetoldit?Asuddenimpulse,noonewasintheleasttoblame(hetoldMrs.Filmer).Andwhythedevilhedidit,Dr.Holmescouldnotconceive.

           Itseemedtoherasshedrankthesweetstuffthatshewasopeninglongwindows,steppingoutintosomegarden.Butwhere?Theclockwasstriking—one,two,three:howsensiblethesoundwas;comparedwithallthisthumpingandwhispering;likeSeptimushimself.Shewasfallingasleep.Buttheclockwentonstriking,four,five,sixandMrs.Filmerwavingherapron(theywouldn’tbringthebodyinhere,wouldthey?)seemedpartofthatgarden;oraflag.ShehadonceseenaflagslowlyripplingoutfromamastwhenshestayedwithherauntatVenice.Menkilledinbattlewerethussaluted,andSeptimushadbeenthroughtheWar.Ofhermemories,mostwerehappy.

           Sheputonherhat,andranthroughcornfields—wherecouldithavebeen?—ontosomehill,somewherenearthesea,fortherewereships,gulls,butterflies;theysatonacliff.