Місіс Деллоуей

           Andheactuallyparedhisnailswithhispocket-knife.

           ForHeaven’ssake,leaveyourknifealone!shecriedtoherselfinirrepressibleirritation;itwashissillyunconventionality,hisweakness;hislackoftheghostofanotionwhatanyoneelsewasfeelingthatannoyedher,hadalwaysannoyedher;andnowathisage,howsilly!

           Iknowallthat,Peterthought;IknowwhatI’mupagainst,hethought,runninghisfingeralongthebladeofhisknife,ClarissaandDallowayandalltherestofthem;butI’llshowClarissa—andthentohisuttersurprise,suddenlythrownbythoseuncontrollableforcesthrownthroughtheair,heburstintotears;wept;weptwithouttheleastshame,sittingonthesofa,thetearsrunningdownhischeeks.

           AndClarissahadleantforward,takenhishand,drawnhimtoher,kissedhim—actuallyhadfelthisfaceonhersbeforeshecoulddownthebrandishingofsilverflashing—plumeslikepampasgrassinatropicgaleinherbreast,which,subsiding,leftherholdinghishand,pattinghiskneeand,feelingasshesatbackextraordinarilyathereasewithhimandlight-hearted,allinaclapitcameoverher,IfIhadmarriedhim,thisgaietywouldhavebeenmineallday!

           Itwasalloverforher.Thesheetwasstretchedandthebednarrow.Shehadgoneupintothetoweraloneandleftthemblackberryinginthesun.