Місіс Деллоуей

           AndreallyClarissa’seyesfilledwithtears.Hermother,walkinginagarden!Butalas,shemustgo.

           FortherewasProfessorBrierly,wholecturedonMilton,talkingtolittleJimHutton(whowasunableevenforapartylikethistocompassbothtieandwaistcoatormakehishairlieflat),andevenatthisdistancetheywerequarrelling,shecouldsee.ForProfessorBrierlywasaveryqueerfish.Withallthosedegrees,honours,lectureshipsbetweenhimandthescribblershesuspectedinstantlyanatmospherenotfavourabletohisqueercompound;hisprodigiouslearningandtimidity;hiswintrycharmwithoutcordiality;hisinnocenceblentwithsnobbery;hequiveredifmadeconsciousbyalady’sunkempthair,ayouth’sboots,ofanunderworld,verycreditabledoubtless,ofrebels,ofardentyoungpeople;ofwould-begeniuses,andintimatedwithalittletossofthehead,withasniff—Humph!—thevalueofmoderation;ofsomeslighttrainingintheclassicsinordertoappreciateMilton.ProfessorBrierly(Clarissacouldsee)wasn’thittingitoffwithlittleJimHutton(whoworeredsocks,hisblackbeingatthelaundry)aboutMilton.Sheinterrupted.

           ShesaidshelovedBach.SodidHutton.Thatwasthebondbetweenthem,andHutton(averybadpoet)alwaysfeltthatMrs.Dallowaywasfarthebestofthegreatladieswhotookaninterestinart.Itwasoddhowstrictshewas.Aboutmusicshewaspurelyimpersonal.Shewasratheraprig.