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Mrs Dalloway (Part VI), by Virginia Woolf (1882-1941).

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•Part VI.	•Parte VI.
•To his patients he gave three-quarters of an hour; and if in this exacting science which has to do with what, after all, we know nothing about--the nervous system, the human brain--a doctor loses his sense of proportion, as a doctor he fails. •Health we must have; and health is proportion; so that when a man comes into your room and says he is Christ (a common delusion), and has a message, as they mostly have, and threatens, as they often do, to kill himself, you invoke proportion; order rest in bed; rest in solitude; silence and rest; rest without friends, without books, without messages; six months' rest; until a man who went in weighing seven stone six comes out weighing twelve.	•A sus pacientes les daba tres cuartos de hora; y si en esta ciencia exigente que tiene que ver con lo que, después de todo, no sabemos nada, el sistema nervioso, el cerebro humano, un médico pierde su sentido de la proporción, como médico él falla. •Debemos tener la salud; y la salud es proporción; de modo que cuando un hombre entra en su habitación y dice que es Cristo (una ilusión común), y tiene un mensaje, como la mayoría tiene, y amenaza, como a menudo lo hace, con matarse, se invoca proporción; se prescribe descanso en la cama; descansar en soledad; silencio y descanso; descanso sin amigos, sin libros, sin mensajes; seis meses de descanso; hasta que un hombre que entró pesando cuarenta y siete kilogramos sale pesando setenta y seis.
•Proportion, divine proportion, Sir William's goddess, was acquired by Sir William walking hospitals, catching salmon, begetting one son in Harley Street by Lady Bradshaw, who caught salmon herself and took photographs scarcely to be distinguished from the work of professionals. •Worshipping proportion, Sir William not only prospered himself but made England prosper, secluded her lunatics, forbade childbirth, penalised despair, made it impossible for the unfit to propagate their views until they, too, shared his sense of proportion--his, if they were men, Lady Bradshaw's if they were women (she embroidered, knitted, spent four nights out of seven at home with her son), so that not only did his colleagues respect him, his subordinates fear him, but the friends and relations of his patients felt for him the keenest gratitude for insisting that these prophetic Christs and Christesses, who prophesied the end of the world, or the advent of God, should drink milk in bed, as Sir William ordered; Sir William with his thirty years' experience of these kinds of cases, and his infallible instinct, this is madness, this sense; in fact, his sense of proportion.	•La proporción, la divina proporción, la diosa de sir William, había sido adquirida por él recorriendo hospitales, pescando salmón, engendrando un hijo en Harley Street con lady Bradshaw, que pescaba salmón por sí misma y tomaba fotografías que difícilmente podían ser distinguidas de las hechas por profesionales. •Al adorar la proporción, no solo prosperó el propio sir William, sino que hizo prosperar a Inglaterra, aisló a sus lunáticos, prohibió los partos, penalizó la desesperación, hizo imposible que los no aptos propagaran sus opiniones hasta que ellos también compartieran su sentido de la proporción... el suyo, si eran hombres, el de lady Bradshaw, si eran mujeres (ella bordaba, tejía y pasaba cuatro noches de cada siete en casa con su hijo), de modo que no solo sus colegas lo respetaban y sus subordinados lo temían, sino que los amigos y familiares de sus pacientes le profesaban la más profunda gratitud por insistir en que estos Cristos y Cristas proféticos, que profetizaban el fin del mundo o la llegada de Dios, debían tomar leche en la cama, como ordenaba sir William; sir William, con sus treinta años de experiencia en este tipo de casos y su instinto infalible: esto es locura, esto es sensato; en definitiva, su sentido de la proporción.
•But Proportion has a sister, less smiling, more formidable, a Goddess even now engaged--in the heat and sands of India, the mud and swamp of Africa, the purlieus of London, wherever in short the climate or the devil tempts men to fall from the true belief which is her own--is even now engaged in dashing down shrines, smashing idols, and setting up in their place her own stern countenance. •Conversion is her name and she feasts on the wills of the weakly, loving to impress, to impose, adoring her own features stamped on the face of the populace. •At Hyde Park Corner on a tub she stands preaching; shrouds herself in white and walks penitentially disguised as brotherly love through factories and parliaments; offers help, but desires power; smites out of her way roughly the dissentient, or dissatisfied; bestows her blessing on those who, looking upward, catch submissively from her eyes the light of their own. •This lady too (Rezia Warren Smith divined it) had her dwelling in Sir William's heart, though concealed, as she mostly is, under some plausible disguise; some venerable name; love, duty, self sacrifice. •How he would work--how toil to raise funds, propagate reforms, initiate institutions! •But conversion, fastidious Goddess, loves blood better than brick, and feasts most subtly on the human will. •For example, Lady Bradshaw. •Fifteen years ago she had gone under. •It was nothing you could put your finger on; there had been no scene, no snap; only the slow sinking, water-logged, of her will into his. •Sweet was her smile, swift her submission; dinner in Harley Street, numbering eight or nine courses, feeding ten or fifteen guests of the professional classes, was smooth and urbane. •Only as the evening wore on a very slight dulness, or uneasiness perhaps, a nervous twitch, fumble, stumble and confusion indicated, what it was really painful to believe--that the poor lady lied. •Once, long ago, she had caught salmon freely: now, quick to minister to the craving which lit her husband's eye so oilily for dominion, for power, she cramped, squeezed, pared, pruned, drew back, peeped through; so that without knowing precisely what made the evening disagreeable, and caused this pressure on the top of the head (which might well be imputed to the professional conversation, or the fatigue of a great doctor whose life, Lady Bradshaw said, "is not his own but his patients'") disagreeable it was: so that guests, when the clock struck ten, breathed in the air of Harley Street even with rapture; which relief, however, was denied to his patients.	•Pero la Proporción tiene una hermana, menos sonriente, más formidable, una diosa que incluso ahora está comprometida, en el calor y las arenas de la India, el barro y los pantanos de África, los alrededores de Londres, en definitiva, en cualquier lugar donde el clima o el diablo tientan a los hombres a apartarse de la verdadera fe que es la de Ella, está incluso ahora comprometida en derribar santuarios, destruir ídolos y establecer en su lugar su propio rostro severo. •Conversión es su nombre, y ella se deleita con la voluntad de los débiles, amando impresionar, imponer, adorar sus propios rasgos estampados en el rostro del populacho. •En Hyde Park Corner, predica parada sobre una tarima; se envuelve en blanco y camina como penitente, disfrazada de amor fraternal por fábricas y parlamentos; ofrece ayuda pero desea poder; quita violentamente de su camino a los disidentes o insatisfechos; concede su bendición a aquellos que, al mirar hacia arriba, captan con sumisión la luz de sus ojos. •Esta dama también (Rezia Warren Smith lo adivinó) tenía su residencia en el corazón de Sir William, pero escondida, como suele estarlo, bajo un disfraz plausible; algún nombre venerable; amor, deber, sacrificio personal. •Cómo él podría trabajar,.. ¡qué trabajo cuesta recaudar fondos, propagar reformas, crear instituciones! •Pero la conversión, diosa meticulosa, ama la sangre más que al ladrillo, y se deleita más sutilmente en la voluntad humana. •Por ejemplo, Lady Bradshaw. •Hace quince años se había hundido. •No era nada en que se pudiera poner el dedo; no había habido ninguna escena, ningún chasquido; solo el lento hundimiento de su voluntad empapada de agua, en la de él. •Dulce era su sonrisa, veloz su sumisión; las cenas en Harley Street, con ocho o nueve cursos, alimentando a diez o quince invitados de las clases profesionales, eran fluidas y urbanas. •Solo cuando avanzaba la noche, un ligero aburrimiento, o tal vez inquietud, un tic nervioso, torpeza, tropiezos y confusión indicaban lo que era realmente doloroso creer: que la pobre señora mentía. •Hace mucho tiempo, ella pescaba salmones libremente; ahora, rápida para satisfacer el ansia que encendía los ojos de su marido con tanta avidez de dominio y poder, ella se encogía, apretaba, achicaba, retrocedía, espiaba; de modo que, sin saber exactamente qué era lo que hacía desagradable la velada y causaba esa presión en la coronilla (que bien podría atribuirse a la conversación profesional o al cansancio de un gran médico cuya vida, según decía lady Bradshaw, "no es suya, sino de sus pacientes"), era desagradable: de modo que los invitados, cuando el reloj daba las diez, respiraban el aire de Harley Street con éxtasis; un alivio que, sin embargo, era negado a sus pacientes.
•There in the grey room, with the pictures on the wall, and the valuable furniture, under the ground glass skylight, they learnt the extent of their transgressions; huddled up in arm-chairs, they watched him go through, for their benefit, a curious exercise with the arms, which he shot out, brought sharply back to his hip, to prove (if the patient was obstinate) that Sir William was master of his own actions, which the patient was not. •There some weakly broke down; sobbed, submitted; others, inspired by Heaven knows what intemperate madness, called Sir William to his face a damnable humbug; questioned, even more impiously, life itself. •Why live? •they demanded. •Sir William replied that life was good. •Certainly Lady Bradshaw in ostrich feathers hung over the mantelpiece, and as for his income it was quite twelve thousand a year. •But to us, they protested, life has given no such bounty. •He acquiesced. •They lacked a sense of proportion. •And perhaps, after all, there is no God? •He shrugged his shoulders. •In short, this living or not living is an affair of our own? •But there they were mistaken. •Sir William had a friend in Surrey where they taught, what Sir William frankly admitted was a difficult art--a sense of proportion. •There were, moreover, family affection; honour; courage; and a brilliant career. •All of these had in Sir William a resolute champion. •If they failed him, he had to support police and the good of society, which, he remarked very quietly, would take care, down in Surrey, that these unsocial impulses, bred more than anything by the lack of good blood, were held in control. •And then stole out from her hiding-place and mounted her throne that Goddess whose lust is to override opposition, to stamp indelibly in the sanctuaries of others the image of herself. •Naked, defenceless, the exhausted, the friendless received the impress of Sir William's will. •He swooped; he devoured. •He shut people up. •It was this combination of decision and humanity that endeared Sir William so greatly to the relations of his victims.	•Allí, en la sala gris, con los cuadros en la pared y el mobiliario valioso, bajo la claraboya de cristal esmerilado, se enteraron del alcance de sus transgresiones; acurrucados en sillones, lo vieron realizar, para su beneficio, un curioso ejercicio con los brazos, que extendió y volvió a colocar bruscamente en la cadera, para demostrar (si el paciente se mostraba obstinado) que sir William era dueño de sus propios actos, cosa que el paciente no era. •Algunos se derrumbaron débilmente; sollozaron, se sometieron; otros, inspirados por Dios sabe qué locura extrema, llamaron a sir William, a la cara, un maldito farsante; cuestionaron, aún más impíamente, la vida misma. •¿Por qué vivir? •preguntaron. •Sir William contestaba que la vida era buena. •Por cierto, Lady Bradshaw con plumas de avestruz colgaba sobre la repisa de la chimenea, y en cuanto a sus ingresos, eran de unos doce mil al año. •Pero a nosotros, protestaron, la vida no nos ha dado tanta bondad. •Él asintió. •No tenían sentido de la proporción. •¿Y quizás, después de todo, Dios no existe? •Sacudió los hombros. •En resumen, ¿este vivir o no vivir es un asunto propio? •Pero ahí se equivocaban. •Sir William tenía un amigo en Surrey donde enseñaban, lo que Sir William admitía francamente era un arte difícil, el sentido de la proporción. •Había, además, el afecto familiar; el honor; el valor; y una carrera brillante. •Todos ellos tenían en sir William un adalid resuelto. •Si le fallaban, tenía que apoyar a la policía y al bien de la sociedad, lo cual, comentó muy tranquilamente, se encargaría, allá en Surrey, de que esos impulsos antisociales, alimentados sobre todo por la falta de buena sangre, se mantuvieran bajo control. •Y luego salió sigilosamente de su escondite y se subió al trono aquella diosa cuyo deseo es anular toda oposición, para grabar de forma indeleble en los santuarios ajenos su propia imagen. •Desnudos, indefensos, los exhaustos y sin amigos, recibieron la impronta de la voluntad de sir William. •Se abalanzó sobre ellos y los devoró. •Los acalló. •Fue esta combinación de decisión y humanidad lo que hizo que Sir William fuera tan querido por los familiares de sus víctimas.
•But Rezia Warren Smith cried, walking down Harley Street, that she did not like that man.	•Pero Rezia Warren Smith gritaba, caminando por Harley Street, diciendo que no le gustaba ese hombre.
•Shredding and slicing, dividing and subdividing, the clocks of Harley Street nibbled at the June day, counselled submission, upheld authority, and pointed out in chorus the supreme advantages of a sense of proportion, until the mound of time was so far diminished that a commercial clock, suspended above a shop in Oxford Street, announced, genially and fraternally, as if it were a pleasure to Messrs. Rigby and Lowndes to give the information gratis, that it was half-past one.	•Triturando y cortando, dividiendo y subdividiendo, los relojes de Harley Street picaban el día de junio, aconsejaban sumisión, defendían la autoridad y señalaban al unísono las ventajas supremas de un sentido de la proporción, hasta que la montaña del tiempo se redujo tanto que un reloj comercial, colgado sobre una estancia de Oxford Street, anunció, de manera cordial y amistosa, como si fuera un placer para los señores Rigby y Lowndes dar la información de forma gratuita, que era la una y media.
•Looking up, it appeared that each letter of their names stood for one of the hours; subconsciously one was grateful to Rigby and Lowndes for giving one time ratified by Greenwich; and this gratitude (so Hugh Whitbread ruminated, dallying there in front of the shop window), naturally took the form later of buying off Rigby and Lowndes socks or shoes. •So he ruminated. •It was his habit. •He did not go deeply. •He brushed surfaces; the dead languages, the living, life in Constantinople, Paris, Rome; riding, shooting, tennis, it had been once. •The malicious asserted that he now kept guard at Buckingham Palace, dressed in silk stockings and knee-breeches, over what nobody knew. •But he did it extremely efficiently. •He had been afloat on the cream of English society for fifty-five years. •He had known Prime Ministers. •His affections were understood to be deep. •And if it were true that he had not taken part in any of the great movements of the time or held important office, one or two humble reforms stood to his credit; an improvement in public shelters was one; the protection of owls in Norfolk another; servant girls had reason to be grateful to him; and his name at the end of letters to the Times, asking for funds, appealing to the public to protect, to preserve, to clear up litter, to abate smoke, and stamp out immorality in parks, commanded respect.	•Levantando la vista, parecía que cada letra de sus nombres representaba una de las horas; inconscientemente, uno agradecía a Rigby y Lowndes por dar una hora ratificada por Greenwich; y este agradecimiento (así reflexionaba Hugh Whitbread, entretenido frente al escaparate de la tienda), naturalmente, más tarde se tradujo en la compra de calcetines o zapatos de Rigby y Lowndes. •Así reflexionaba. •Era su costumbre. •No ahondaba mucho. •Se quedaba en lo superficial: las lenguas muertas, las vivas, la vida en Constantinopla, París, Roma; montar a caballo, cazar, jugar al tenis, como había sido antes. •Los maliciosos afirmaron que ahora montaba guardia en el Palacio de Buckingham, vestido con medias de seda y calzones, sobre algo que nadie sabía. •Pero lo hizo muy bien. •Había estado flotando sobre la crema de la sociedad inglesa durante cincuenta y cinco años. •Había conocido a primeros ministros. •Se entendía que sus afectos eran profundos. •Y si fuera cierto que no había participado en ninguno de los grandes movimientos de la época ni había ocupado cargos importantes, se le atribuían una o dos modestas reformas; una era el mejoramiento de los refugios públicos; otra la protección de los búhos en Norfolk; las sirvientas tenían motivos para estar agradecidas; y su nombre al final de las cartas a The Times, pidiendo fondos, apelando al público para proteger, preservar, limpiar la basura, reducir el humo y erradicar la inmoralidad en los parques, merecía respeto.
•A magnificent figure he cut too, pausing for a moment (as the sound of the half hour died away) to look critically, magisterially, at socks and shoes; impeccable, substantial, as if he beheld the world from a certain eminence, and dressed to match; but realised the obligations which size, wealth, health, entail, and observed punctiliously even when not absolutely necessary, little courtesies, old-fashioned ceremonies which gave a quality to his manner, something to imitate, something to remember him by, for he would never lunch, for example, with Lady Bruton, whom he had known these twenty years, without bringing her in his outstretched hand a bunch of carnations and asking Miss Brush, Lady Bruton's secretary, after her brother in South Africa, which, for some reason, Miss Brush, deficient though she was in every attribute of female charm, so much resented that she said "Thank you, he's doing very well in South Africa," when, for half a dozen years, he had been doing badly in Portsmouth.	•Era una figura magnífica, que se detenía un momento (cuando el sonido de la media hora se desvanecía) para mirar con ojo crítico y magistral sus calcetines y zapatos; impecable, sustancial, como si contemplara el mundo desde cierta superioridad y se vistiera de acuerdo con ello; pero consciente de las obligaciones que conllevan el tamaño, la riqueza y la salud, y observaba puntillosamente, incluso cuando no era absolutamente necesario, pequeñas cortesías, ceremonias anticuadas que daban calidad a sus modales, algo que imitar, algo por lo que recordarlo, ya que nunca almorzaría, por ejemplo, con lady Bruton, a quien conocía desde hacía veinte años, sin llevarle en su mano extendida un ramo de claveles y preguntarle a la Srta. Brush, la secretaria de lady Bruton, por su hermano de Sudáfrica, lo que, por alguna razón, la Srta. Brush, a pesar de carecer de todo atributo de encanto femenino, molestaba tanto que decía: «Gracias, le va muy bien en Sudáfrica», cuando, durante media docena de años, le había ido mal en Portsmouth.
•Lady Bruton herself preferred Richard Dalloway, who arrived at the next moment. •Indeed they met on the doorstep.	•La propia lady Bruton prefería a Richard Dalloway, que llegó al momento siguiente. •De hecho, se encontraron en la puerta.
•Lady Bruton preferred Richard Dalloway of course. •He was made of much finer material. •But she wouldn't let them run down her poor dear Hugh. •She could never forget his kindness--he had been really remarkably kind--she forgot precisely upon what occasion. •But he had been--remarkably kind. •Anyhow, the difference between one man and another does not amount to much. •She had never seen the sense of cutting people up, as Clarissa Dalloway did--cutting them up and sticking them together again; not at any rate when one was sixty-two. •She took Hugh's carnations with her angular grim smile. •There was nobody else coming, she said. •She had got them there on false pretences, to help her out of a difficulty-- "But let us eat first," she said.	•Lady Bruton prefería a Richard Dalloway, por supuesto. •Él estaba hecho de un material mucho más fino. •Pero ella no iba a permitir que menospreciaran a su pobre y querido Hugh. •Nunca podría olvidar su amabilidad, había sido realmente extraordinariamente amable, pero no recordaba exactamente en qué ocasión. •Pero él había sido... extraordinariamente amable. •De todas maneras, la diferencia entre un hombre y otro no es grande. •Nunca había visto el sentido de destrozar a las personas, como hacía Clarissa Dalloway...destrozándolas y recomponiéndolas de nuevo; en cualquier caso, no cuando uno tenía sesenta y dos años. •Tomó los claveles de Hugh con una sombría sonrisa angulosa. •"No vendrá nadie más", dijo. •Los había hecho venir bajo falsos pretextos, para ayudarla a salir de una dificultad... "Pero comamos primero", dijo.
•And so there began a soundless and exquisite passing to and fro through swing doors of aproned white-capped maids, handmaidens not of necessity, but adepts in a mystery or grand deception practised by hostesses in Mayfair from one-thirty to two, when, with a wave of the hand, the traffic ceases, and there rises instead this profound illusion in the first place about the food--how it is not paid for; and then that the table spreads itself voluntarily with glass and silver, little mats, saucers of red fruit; films of brown cream mask turbot; in casseroles severed chickens swim; coloured, undomestic, the fire burns; and with the wine and the coffee (not paid for) rise jocund visions before musing eyes; gently speculative eyes; eyes to whom life appears musical, mysterious; eyes now kindled to observe genially the beauty of the red carnations which Lady Bruton (whose movements were always angular) had laid beside her plate, so that Hugh Whitbread, feeling at peace with the entire universe and at the same time completely sure of his standing, said, resting his fork, "Wouldn't they look charming against your lace?"	•Y así comenzó, a través de puertas batientes, un silencioso y exquisito baile de idas y vueltas de doncellas con delantal y cofia blanca, sirvientas no de la necesidad, sino adeptas en un misterio o gran engaño practicado por las anfitrionas en Mayfair de la una y media a las dos, cuando, con un gesto de la mano, el tráfico cesa, y en su lugar surge esta profunda ilusión en primer lugar sobre la comida: cómo no se paga por ella; y luego que la mesa se llena voluntariamente con vidrio y plata, pequeños tapetes, platillos de fruta roja; películas de crema marrón enmascaran el rodaballo; en cazuelas nadan gallinas cortadas; coloreadas, no domésticas, el fuego arde; y con el vino y el café (no pagados) surgen visiones agradables ante ojos cavilantes; ojos suavemente especulativos; ojos a los que la vida aparece musical, misteriosa; los ojos se encendieron ahora para observar genialmente la belleza de los claveles rojos que Lady Bruton (cuyos movimientos eran siempre angulares) había puesto junto a su plato, de modo que Hugh Whitbread, sintiéndose en paz con todo el universo y al mismo tiempo completamente seguro de su posición, dijo, soltando el tenedor, "¿No se verían encantadores sobre tu encaje?".
•Miss Brush resented this familiarity intensely. •She thought him an underbred fellow. •She made Lady Bruton laugh.	•A la Srta. Brush le molestaba mucho esta familiaridad. •Pensaba que era un tipo maleducado. •Hizo reír a Lady Bruton.
•Lady Bruton raised the carnations, holding them rather stiffly with much the same attitude with which the General held the scroll in the picture behind her; she remained fixed, tranced. •Which was she now, the General's great-grand-daughter? •great-great-grand-daughter? •Richard Dalloway asked himself. •Sir Roderick, Sir Miles, Sir Talbot--that was it. •It was remarkable how in that family the likeness persisted in the women. •She should have been a general of dragoons herself. •And Richard would have served under her, cheerfully; he had the greatest respect for her; he cherished these romantic views about well-set-up old women of pedigree, and would have liked, in his good-humoured way, to bring some young hot-heads of his acquaintance to lunch with her; as if a type like hers could be bred of amiable tea-drinking enthusiasts! •He knew her country. •He knew her people. •There was a vine, still bearing, which either Lovelace or Herrick--she never read a word poetry of herself, but so the story ran--had sat under. •Better wait to put before them the question that bothered her (about making an appeal to the public; if so, in what terms and so on), better wait until they have had their coffee, Lady Bruton thought; and so laid the carnations down beside her plate.	•Lady Bruton recogió los claveles, sosteniéndolos con bastante rigidez, con una actitud muy parecida a la con que, en el cuadro detrás de ella, el general sostenía el pergamino; permaneció inmóvil, como en trance. •¿Quién era ella ahora, la bisnieta del general? •¿la tataranieta? •Richard Dalloway se preguntó. •Sir Roderick, Sir Miles, Sir Talbot....eso era todo. •Era notable cómo en esa familia el parecido persistía en las mujeres. •Ella debería haber sido general de dragones. •Y Richard habría servido bajo su mando, alegremente; tenía el mayor respeto por ella; él apreciaba estos puntos de vista románticos sobre mujeres viejas bien establecidas de pedigrí, y le hubiera gustado, en su buen humor, traer algunos jóvenes elementos exaltados, de su conocido a almorzar con ella; ¡Como si un tipo como el suyo pudiera ser criado por amables entusiastas del té! •Él conocía su país. •Conocía a su gente. •Había una vid, todavía con frutas, debajo de la que o Lovelace o Herrick, ella nunca leía una palabra de poesía por sí misma, pero así contaba la historia, se había sentado. •Mejor esperar para hacerles la pregunta que le molestaba (sobre hacer un llamamiento al público; si fuese así, en qué términos y demás), mejor esperar hasta que hayan tomado su café, pensó Lady Bruton; y así puso los claveles junto a su plato.
•"How's Clarissa?" •she asked abruptly.	•"¿Cómo está Clarissa?" •preguntó abruptamente.
•Clarissa always said that Lady Bruton did not like her. •Indeed, Lady Bruton had the reputation of being more interested in politics than people; of talking like a man; of having had a finger in some notorious intrigue of the eighties, which was now beginning to be mentioned in memoirs. •Certainly there was an alcove in her drawing-room, and a table in that alcove, and a photograph upon that table of General Sir Talbot Moore, now deceased, who had written there (one evening in the eighties) in Lady Bruton's presence, with her cognisance, perhaps advice, a telegram ordering the British troops to advance upon an historical occasion. •(She kept the pen and told the story.) •Thus, when she said in her offhand way "How's Clarissa?" •husbands had difficulty in persuading their wives and indeed, however devoted, were secretly doubtful themselves, of her interest in women who often got in their husbands' way, prevented them from accepting posts abroad, and had to be taken to the seaside in the middle of the session to recover from influenza. •Nevertheless her inquiry, "How's Clarissa?" •was known by women infallibly, to be a signal from a well-wisher, from an almost silent companion, whose utterances (half a dozen perhaps in the course of a lifetime) signified recognition of some feminine comradeship which went beneath masculine lunch parties and united Lady Bruton and Mrs. Dalloway, who seldom met, and appeared when they did meet indifferent and even hostile, in a singular bond.	•Clarissa siempre decía que a Lady Bruton no le gustaba. •De hecho, lady Bruton tenía fama de estar más interesada en la política que en las personas; de hablar como un hombre; de haber participado en alguna intriga notoria de los años ochenta, que ahora comenzaba a mencionarse en memorias. •Ciertamente, había un rincón en su salón, y una mesa en ese rincón, y una fotografía sobre esa mesa del general sir Talbot Moore, ahora fallecido, quien había escrito allí (una noche en los años ochenta) en presencia de lady Bruton, con su conocimiento, tal vez con su sugerencia, un telegrama ordenando a las tropas británicas que avanzaran en una ocasión histórica. •(Ella guardó la pluma y contó la historia). •Así, cuando dijo con su estilo informal "¿Cómo está Clarissa?", •los maridos tuvieron dificultades para convencer a sus esposas y, de hecho, por muy devotos que fueran, ellos mismos dudaron en secreto del interés de ella por las mujeres, que a menudo se interponían en el camino de sus maridos, impidiéndoles aceptar puestos en el extranjero, y a las que había que llevar a la costa en mitad de la temporada para que se recuperaran de la gripe. •Sin embargo, su pregunta: ''¿Cómo está Clarissa?'' •era conocida infaliblemente por las mujeres, por ser una señal de alguien bienintencionado, de una compañera casi silenciosa, cuyas expresiones (quizás media docena a lo largo de una vida) significaban el reconocimiento de cierta camaradería femenina que se escondía tras las comidas masculinas y unía a Lady Bruton y a la señora Dalloway, que rara vez se veían, y cuando lo hacían se mostraban indiferentes e incluso hostiles, unidas por un vínculo singular.
•"I met Clarissa in the Park this morning," said Hugh Whitbread, diving into the casserole, anxious to pay himself this little tribute, for he had only to come to London and he met everybody at once; but greedy, one of the greediest men she had ever known, Milly Brush thought, who observed men with unflinching rectitude, and was capable of everlasting devotion, to her own sex in particular, being knobbed, scraped, angular, and entirely without feminine charm.	•"Me encontré con Clarissa en el parque esta mañana", dijo Hugh Whitbread, buceando en la cazuela, ansioso de tributarse a sí mismo este pequeño tributo, porque acababa de llegar a Londres y se encontraba con todos al mismo tiempo; pero codicioso, uno de los hombres más codiciosos que había conocido, pensó Milly Brush, que observaba a los hombres con una rectitud inquebrantable y era capaz de una devoción eterna, en particular hacia su propio sexo, siendo nudosa, arrugada, angulosa y carente de todo encanto femenino.
•"D'you know who's in town?" •said Lady Bruton suddenly bethinking her. •"Our old friend, Peter Walsh."	•"¿Saben quién está en la ciudad?" •dijo Lady Bruton, acordándose de repente. •"Nuestro viejo amigo, Peter Walsh".
•They all smiled. •Peter Walsh! •And Mr. Dalloway was genuinely glad, Milly Brush thought; and Mr. Whitbread thought only of his chicken.	•Todos sonrieron. •¡Peter Walsh! •Milly Brush pensó que el Sr. Dalloway estaba genuinamente contento, y que el Sr. Whitbread solo pensaba en su pollo.
•Peter Walsh! •All three, Lady Bruton, Hugh Whitbread, and Richard Dalloway, remembered the same thing--how passionately Peter had been in love; been rejected; gone to India; come a cropper; made a mess of things; and Richard Dalloway had a very great liking for the dear old fellow too. •Milly Brush saw that; saw a depth in the brown of his eyes; saw him hesitate; consider; which interested her, as Mr. Dalloway always interested her, for what was he thinking, she wondered, about Peter Walsh?	•¡Peter Walsh! •Los tres, Lady Bruton, Hugh Whitbread y Richard Dalloway, recordaban lo mismo: cuán apasionadamente Peter había estado enamorado; había sido rechazado; había ido a la India; había fracasado estrepitosamente; había hecho un lío de las cosas; y Richard Dalloway también tenía un muy gran aprecio por el querido compañero. •Milly Brush lo percibió; vio profundidad en el color marrón de sus ojos; lo vio dudar; pensar; lo que le interesó, ya que el Sr. Dalloway siempre le interesaba, porque se preguntaba qué estaría él pensando sobre Peter Walsh.
•That Peter Walsh had been in love with Clarissa; that he would go back directly after lunch and find Clarissa; that he would tell her, in so many words, that he loved her. •Yes, he would say that.	•Que Peter Walsh había estado enamorado de Clarissa; que volvería directamente después de comer y buscaría a Clarissa; que le diría, con todas las palabras, que la amaba. •Sí, le diría eso.
•Milly Brush once might almost have fallen in love with these silences; and Mr. Dalloway was always so dependable; such a gentleman too. •Now, being forty, Lady Bruton had only to nod, or turn her head a little abruptly, and Milly Brush took the signal, however deeply she might be sunk in these reflections of a detached spirit, of an uncorrupted soul whom life could not bamboozle, because life had not offered her a trinket of the slightest value; not a curl, smile, lip, cheek, nose; nothing whatever; Lady Bruton had only to nod, and Perkins was instructed to quicken the coffee.	•Milly Brush una vez casi se hubiera enamorado de esos silencios; y el señor Dalloway siempre era tan confiable; además, tan caballero. •Ahora, con cuarenta años, lady Bruton solo tenía que asentir con la cabeza o volverla un poco bruscamente, y Milly Brush captaba la señal, por muy sumida que estuviera en sus reflexiones de ánimo distante, de alma incorrupta a la que la vida no podía engañar, porque la vida no le había ofrecido ni una baratija del más mínimo valor; ni un rizo, ni una sonrisa, ni un labio, ni una mejilla, ni una nariz; nada en absoluto; Lady Bruton solo tenía que asentir con la cabeza y Perkins recibía la orden de apurar el café.
•"Yes; Peter Walsh has come back," said Lady Bruton. •It was vaguely flattering to them all. •He had come back, battered, unsuccessful, to their secure shores. •But to help him, they reflected, was impossible; there was some flaw in his character. •Hugh Whitbread said one might of course mention his name to So-and-so. •He wrinkled lugubriously, consequentially, at the thought of the letters he would write to the heads of Government offices about "my old friend, Peter Walsh," and so on. •But it wouldn't lead to anything--not to anything permanent, because of his character.	•''Sí, Peter Walsh ha vuelto'', dijo Lady Bruton. •Era vagamente halagador para todos ellos. •Había vuelto, golpeado, sin éxito, a sus costas seguras. •Pero era imposible ayudarle, pensaron; había algún defecto en su carácter. •Hugh Whitbread dijo que por supuesto, se podía mencionar su nombre a Tal y Tal. •Frunció el ceño lúgubremente, consecuentemente, al pensar en las cartas que escribiría a los jefes de las oficinas del gobierno sobre "mi viejo amigo, Peter Walsh", y así sucesivamente. •Pero no conduciría a nada -- nada permanente, debido a su carácter.
•"In trouble with some woman," said Lady Bruton. •They had all guessed that that was at the bottom of it.	•"En problemas con alguna mujer", dijo Lady Bruton. •Todos habían adivinado que eso estaba detrás de esto.
•"However," said Lady Bruton, anxious to leave the subject, "we shall hear the whole story from Peter himself."	•"Sin embargo", dijo Lady Bruton, ansiosa por dejar el tema, "escucharemos toda la historia de los labios del propio Peter".
•(The coffee was very slow in coming.)	•(El café tardaba mucho en llegar).
•"The address?" •murmured Hugh Whitbread; and there was at once a ripple in the grey tide of service which washed round Lady Bruton day in, day out, collecting, intercepting, enveloping her in a fine tissue which broke concussions, mitigated interruptions, and spread round the house in Brook Street a fine net where things lodged and were picked out accurately, instantly, by grey-haired Perkins, who had been with Lady Bruton these thirty years and now wrote down the address; handed it to Mr. Whitbread, who took out his pocket-book, raised his eyebrows, and slipping it in among documents of the highest importance, said that he would get Evelyn to ask him to lunch.	•"¿La dirección?", •murmuró Hugh Whitbread; y enseguida se produjo una ondulación en la marea gris del servicio que rodeaba a lady Bruton día tras día, recopilando, interceptando, envolviéndola en un fino tejido que amortiguaba los golpes, mitigaba las interrupciones y extendía por toda la casa de Brook Street una fina red donde las cosas se alojaban y eran recogidas con precisión, al instante, por el canoso Perkins, que había estado con lady Bruton durante treinta años y ahora anotaba la dirección; se la entregó al Sr. Whitbread, quien sacó su agenda, levantó las cejas y, deslizándola entre documentos de la mayor importancia, dijo que le pediría a Evelyn que lo invitara a almorzar.
•(They were waiting to bring the coffee until Mr. Whitbread had finished.)	•(Esperaron para traer el café hasta que el Sr. Whitbread hubo terminado).
•Hugh was very slow, Lady Bruton thought. •He was getting fat, she noticed. •Richard always kept himself in the pink of condition. •She was getting impatient; the whole of her being was setting positively, undeniably, domineeringly brushing aside all this unnecessary trifling (Peter Walsh and his affairs) upon that subject which engaged her attention, and not merely her attention, but that fibre which was the ramrod of her soul, that essential part of her without which Millicent Bruton would not have been Millicent Bruton; that project for emigrating young people of both sexes born of respectable parents and setting them up with a fair prospect of doing well in Canada. •She exaggerated. •She had perhaps lost her sense of proportion. •Emigration was not to others the obvious remedy, the sublime conception. •It was not to them (not to Hugh, or Richard, or even to devoted Miss Brush) the liberator of the pent egotism, which a strong martial woman, well nourished, well descended, of direct impulses, downright feelings, and little introspective power (broad and simple--why could not every one be broad and simple? •she asked) feels rise within her, once youth is past, and must eject upon some object--it may be Emigration, it may be Emancipation; but whatever it be, this object round which the essence of her soul is daily secreted, becomes inevitably prismatic, lustrous, half looking-glass, half precious stone; now carefully hidden in case people should sneer at it; now proudly displayed. •Emigration had become, in short, largely Lady Bruton.	•Hugh era muy lento, pensó Lady Bruton. •Él estaba engordando, ella notó. •Richard siempre se mantenía en buena condición. •Ella estaba impaciente; todo su ser estaba descartando de manera positiva, innegable y dominante todas estas trivialidades innecesarias ( Peter Walsh y sus asuntos) acerca de ese sujeto que ocupaba su atención, y no solo su atención, pero esa fibra era el apoyo de su alma, esa parte suya esencial sin la cual Millicent Bruton no podría ser Millicent Bruton; ese proyecto para emigrar a jóvenes de ambos sexos nacidos de padres respetables y ofrecerles una perspectiva justa de prosperar en Canadá. •Exageraba. •Quizás había perdido el sentido de la proporción. •La emigración no era para otros el remedio obvio, el planteamiento sublime. •No era para ellos (ni para Hugh, ni Richard, ni siquiera para la devota Miss Brush) el liberador del egotismo reprimido, que una fuerte mujer marcial, bien nutrida, de buena descendencia, de impulsos directos, sentimientos directos y poco poder introspectivo (ancha y simple, ¿por qué cada uno no podría ser ancho y sencillo?), •siente surgir dentro de sí misma, una vez pasada la juventud, y debe eyectar sobre algún objeto, puede ser la emigración, puede ser la emancipación; pero sea lo que sea, este objeto alrededor del cual la esencia de su alma es secretada diariamente, se vuelve inevitablemente prismático, lustroso, mitad espejo, mitad piedra preciosa; unas veces cuidadosamente escondido por si la gente se burlara de él; otras veces orgullosamente exhibido. •La emigración se había convertido, en definitiva, en gran parte en Lady Bruton.
•But she had to write. •And one letter to the Times, she used to say to Miss Brush, cost her more than to organise an expedition to South Africa (which she had done in the war). •After a morning's battle beginning, tearing up, beginning again, she used to feel the futility of her own womanhood as she felt it on no other occasion, and would turn gratefully to the thought of Hugh Whitbread who possessed--no one could doubt it--the art of writing letters to the Times.	•Pero tenía que escribir. •Y solía decirle a la señorita Brush que una carta al Times le costaba más que organizar una expedición a Sudáfrica (lo cual había hecho en la guerra). •Después de una mañana de lucha, de desgarrarse y volver a empezar, solía sentir la futilidad de su propia feminidad como en ninguna otra ocasión, y se volcaba agradecida a pensar en Hugh Whitbread, quien poseía —nadie podía dudarlo— el arte de escribir cartas al Times.
•A being so differently constituted from herself, with such a command of language; able to put things as editors like them put; had passions which one could not call simply greed. •Lady Bruton often suspended judgement upon men in deference to the mysterious accord in which they, but no woman, stood to the laws of the universe; knew how to put things; knew what was said; so that if Richard advised her, and Hugh wrote for her, she was sure of being somehow right. •So she let Hugh eat his soufflé; asked after poor Evelyn; waited until they were smoking, and then said, "Milly, would you fetch the papers?"	•Un ser tan diferente a ella, con tal dominio del lenguaje, capaz de expresar las cosas como les gustaba a los editores, tenía pasiones que no podían calificarse simplemente de codicia. •Lady Bruton a menudo suspendía su juicio sobre los hombres por deferencia al misterioso acuerdo en el que ellos, pero no las mujeres, estaban sujetos a las leyes del universo; sabían cómo expresar las cosas; sabían lo que se decía; de modo que si Richard la aconsejaba y Hugh escribía por ella, estaba segura de estar, de alguna manera, en lo correcto. •Así que dejó que Hugh se comiera su soufflé; preguntó por la pobre Evelyn; esperó hasta que estuvieran fumando y luego dijo: "Milly, ¿podrías traer los periódicos?".
•And Miss Brush went out, came back; laid papers on the table; and Hugh produced his fountain pen; his silver fountain pen, which had done twenty years' service, he said, unscrewing the cap. •It was still in perfect order; he had shown it to the makers; there was no reason, they said, why it should ever wear out; which was somehow to Hugh's credit, and to the credit of the sentiments which his pen expressed (so Richard Dalloway felt) as Hugh began carefully writing capital letters with rings round them in the margin, and thus marvellously reduced Lady Bruton's tangles to sense, to grammar such as the editor of the Times, Lady Bruton felt, watching the marvellous transformation, must respect. •Hugh was slow. •Hugh was pertinacious. •Richard said one must take risks. •Hugh proposed modifications in deference to people's feelings, which, he said rather tartly when Richard laughed, "had to be considered," and read out "how, therefore, we are of opinion that the times are ripe . •. •. •the superfluous youth of our ever-increasing population . •. •. •what we owe to the dead . •. •." •which Richard thought all stuffing and bunkum, but no harm in it, of course, and Hugh went on drafting sentiments in alphabetical order of the highest nobility, brushing the cigar ash from his waistcoat, and summing up now and then the progress they had made until, finally, he read out the draft of a letter which Lady Bruton felt certain was a masterpiece. •Could her own meaning sound like that?	•Y la Srta. Brush salió, volvió, puso los periódicos sobre la mesa y Hugh sacó su pluma estilográfica, su pluma estilográfica de plata, que llevaba veinte años en uso, según dijo, mientras desenroscaba el capuchón. •Todavía estaba en perfecto estado; se la había mostrado a los fabricantes; no había razón, dijeron, para que se desgastara jamás; lo cual, de alguna manera, era mérito de Hugh y de los sentimientos que expresaba su pluma (así lo sentía Richard Dalloway), mientras Hugh comenzaba a escribir cuidadosamente letras mayúsculas con anillos alrededor en el margen, reduciendo así maravillosamente los enredos de lady Bruton a sentido, a gramática tal y como el editor del Times debía respetar, sintió lady Bruton, al observar la maravillosa transformación. •Hugh era lento. •Hugh era perseverante. •Richard dijo que hay que correr riesgos. •Hugh proponía modificaciones en deferencia a los sentimientos de las personas, que, dijo él con cierta acidez cuando Richard se rió, ''debían tenerse en cuenta'', y leyó ''por lo tanto, opinamos que ha llegado el momento adecuado'' •. •. •la juventud superflua de nuestra creciente población. •. •. •lo que debemos a los muertos . •. •", •lo cual Richard pensó era todo relleno y bobadas, pero nada malo en ello, por supuesto, y Hugh siguió redactando los sentimientos en orden alfabético de la más alta nobleza, cepillando la ceniza del cigarro de su chaleco, y resumiendo de vez en cuando el progreso que habían hecho hasta que, por último, leyó el borrador de una carta que Lady Bruton consideró como una obra maestra. •¿Podía lo que ella quería decir sonar así?
•Hugh could not guarantee that the editor would put it in; but he would be meeting somebody at luncheon.	•Hugh no podía garantizar que el editor lo publicaría; pero estaría reuniéndose con alguien en el almuerzo.
•Whereupon Lady Bruton, who seldom did a graceful thing, stuffed all Hugh's carnations into the front of her dress, and flinging her hands out called him "My Prime Minister!" •What she would have done without them both she did not know. •They rose. •And Richard Dalloway strolled off as usual to have a look at the General's portrait, because he meant, whenever he had a moment of leisure, to write a history of Lady Bruton's family.	•Después de eso, Lady Bruton, que rara vez hacía algo gracioso, metió todos los claveles de Hugh en el corpiño de su vestido, y extendiendo las manos le llamó "¡Mi Primer Ministro!" •Lo que podría haber hecho sin ambos no lo sabía. •Se levantaron. •Y Richard Dalloway se alejó como de costumbre para echar un vistazo al retrato del general, porque se proponía, en cuanto tuviera un momento libre, escribir una historia de la familia de lady Bruton.
•And Millicent Bruton was very proud of her family. •But they could wait, they could wait, she said, looking at the picture; meaning that her family, of military men, administrators, admirals, had been men of action, who had done their duty; and Richard's first duty was to his country, but it was a fine face, she said; and all the papers were ready for Richard down at Aldmixton whenever the time came; the Labour Government she meant. •"Ah, the news from India!" •she cried.	•Y Millicent Bruton estaba muy orgullosa de su familia. •Pero podían esperar, podían esperar, dijo ella, mirando el cuadro; queriendo decir que su familia, compuesta por militares, administradores y almirantes, había sido de hombres de acción, que habían cumplido con su deber; y el primer deber de Richard era para con su país, pero era un rostro hermoso, dijo ella; y todos los papeles estaban listos para Richard en Aldmixton para cuando llegara el momento; se refería al Gobierno laborista. •"¡Ah, las noticias de la India!", •exclamó.
•And then, as they stood in the hall taking yellow gloves from the bowl on the malachite table and Hugh was offering Miss Brush with quite unnecessary courtesy some discarded ticket or other compliment, which she loathed from the depths of her heart and blushed brick red, Richard turned to Lady Bruton, with his hat in his hand, and said, "We shall see you at our party to-night?" •whereupon Lady Bruton resumed the magnificence which letter-writing had shattered. •She might come; or she might not come. •Clarissa had wonderful energy. •Parties terrified Lady Bruton. •But then, she was getting old. •So she intimated, standing at her doorway; handsome; very erect; while her chow stretched behind her, and Miss Brush disappeared into the background with her hands full of papers.	•Y entonces, mientras estaban en el vestíbulo tomando guantes amarillos del cuenco sobre la mesa de malaquita y Hugh, con una cortesía bastante innecesaria, ofrecía a la Srta. Brush algún boleto desechado u otro cumplido, que ella detestaba desde lo más profundo de su corazón y se sonrojaba como un ladrillo, Richard se volvió hacia lady Bruton, con el sombrero en la mano, y dijo: "¿La veremos en nuestra fiesta esta noche?", •con lo cual lady Bruton recuperó la magnificencia que la correspondencia había hecho añicos. •Quizás vendrá; o quizás no vendrá. •Clarissa tenía una maravillosa energía. •Las fiestas aterrorizaban a Lady Bruton. •Pero entonces, ella estaba envejeciendo. •Así lo insinuó, de pie en la puerta de su casa; guapa; muy erguida; mientras su chow se estiraba detrás de ella y la Srta Brush desaparecía en el fondo con las manos llenas de papeles.
•And Lady Bruton went ponderously, majestically, up to her room, lay, one arm extended, on the sofa. •She sighed, she snored, not that she was asleep, only drowsy and heavy, drowsy and heavy, like a field of clover in the sunshine this hot June day, with the bees going round and about and the yellow butterflies. •Always she went back to those fields down in Devonshire, where she had jumped the brooks on Patty, her pony, with Mortimer and Tom, her brothers. •And there were the dogs; there were the rats; there were her father and mother on the lawn under the trees, with the tea-things out, and the beds of dahlias, the hollyhocks, the pampas grass; and they, little wretches, always up to some mischief! •stealing back through the shrubbery, so as not to be seen, all bedraggled from some roguery. •What old nurse used to say about her frocks!	•Y Lady Bruton subió majestuosamente a su habitación, echándose con un brazo extendido sobre el sofá, •Ella suspiró, roncó, no estaba dormida, solo somnolienta y pesada, somnolienta y pesada, como un campo de trébol bajo el sol de este caluroso día de junio, con las abejas dando vueltas y las mariposas amarillas. •Siempre regresaba a esos campos en Devonshire, donde había saltado los arroyos sobre Patty, su pony, con Mortimer y Tom, sus hermanos. •Y había los perros; había las ratas; había su padre y su madre en el césped debajo de los árboles, con el servicio del té puesto, y los macizos de dalias, las malvarrosas, la hierba de las pampas; ¡y ellos, pequeños desventurados, siempre tramando alguna travesura! •escabulléndose entre los arbustos, para no ser vistos, todos desaliñados por alguna picardía. •¡Lo que solía decir la vieja niñera sobre sus vestidos!
•Ah dear, she remembered--it was Wednesday in Brook Street. •Those kind good fellows, Richard Dalloway, Hugh Whitbread, had gone this hot day through the streets whose growl came up to her lying on the sofa. •Power was hers, position, income. •She had lived in the forefront of her time. •She had had good friends; known the ablest men of her day. •Murmuring London flowed up to her, and her hand, lying on the sofa back, curled upon some imaginary baton such as her grandfathers might have held, holding which she seemed, drowsy and heavy, to be commanding battalions marching to Canada, and those good fellows walking across London, that territory of theirs, that little bit of carpet, Mayfair.	•'Ay, querida', lo recordaba... era miércoles en Brook Street. •Esos buenos amigos, Richard Dalloway y Hugh Whitbread, habían andado este día caluroso por las calles, cuyo bullicio llegaba hasta ella, tumbada en el sofá. •El poder era de ella, la posición, los ingresos. •Ella había vivido a la vanguardia de su época. •Había tenido buenos amigos; conocido los hombres más capaces de su época. •El murmullo de Londres fluía hacia ella, y su mano, apoyada en el respaldo del sofá, enroscada sobre una batuta imaginaria como la que podrían haber empuñado sus abuelos, ella pareció, somnolienta y pesada, estar al mando de batallones que marchan hacia Canadá, y esos buenos compañeros que caminan por Londres, ese territorio suyo, ese pequeño trozo de alfombra, Mayfair.
•And they went further and further from her, being attached to her by a thin thread (since they had lunched with her) which would stretch and stretch, get thinner and thinner as they walked across London; as if one's friends were attached to one's body, after lunching with them, by a thin thread, which (as she dozed there) became hazy with the sound of bells, striking the hour or ringing to service, as a single spider's thread is blotted with rain-drops, and, burdened, sags down. •So she slept.	•Y se alejaban cada vez más de ella, estando unidos a ella por un fino hilo (desde que habían almorzado con ella) que se estiraba y estiraba, se hacía cada vez más fino a medida que caminaban por Londres; como si los amigos estuvieran unidos al cuerpo de uno, después de almorzar con ellos, por un hilo fino, que (mientras ella dormitaba allí) se volvía vago con el sonido de las campanas, que marcaban la hora o llamaban al servicio, como un solo hilo de araña se mancha con las gotas de lluvia y, cargado, se afloja. •Así se durmió.
•And Richard Dalloway and Hugh Whitbread hesitated at the corner of Conduit Street at the very moment that Millicent Bruton, lying on the sofa, let the thread snap; snored. •Contrary winds buffeted at the street corner. •They looked in at a shop window; they did not wish to buy or to talk but to part, only with contrary winds buffeting the street corner, with some sort of lapse in the tides of the body, two forces meeting in a swirl, morning and afternoon, they paused. •Some newspaper placard went up in the air, gallantly, like a kite at first, then paused, swooped, fluttered; and a lady's veil hung. •Yellow awnings trembled. •The speed of the morning traffic slackened, and single carts rattled carelessly down half-empty streets. •In Norfolk, of which Richard Dalloway was half thinking, a soft warm wind blew back the petals; confused the waters; ruffled the flowering grasses. •Haymakers, who had pitched beneath hedges to sleep away the morning toil, parted curtains of green blades; moved trembling globes of cow parsley to see the sky; the blue, the steadfast, the blazing summer sky.	•Y Richard Dalloway y Hugh Whitbread dudaron en la esquina de Conduit Street en el mismo momento en que Millicent Bruton, tumbada en el sofá, dejó que el hilo se rompiera; roncó. •Vientos opuestos azotaban la esquina. •Ellos miraron el escaparate de una tienda; no deseaban comprar ni hablar, sino separarse, pero se detuvieron, solo con los vientos opuestos azotando la esquina, con una especie de lapso en las mareas del cuerpo, dos fuerzas que se encontraban en un remolino, por la mañana y por la tarde. •El cartel de un periódico se elevó en el aire, gallardamente, como una cometa al principio, luego se detuvo, se precipitó, revoloteó; y quedó colgado el velo de una dama. •Toldos amarillos temblaron. •La velocidad del tráfico de la mañana se calmó, y carros solitarios traqueteaban descuidadamente por calles medio vacías. •En Norfolk, en lo que Richard Dalloway estaba medio pensando, un viento dulce y cálido sopló hacia atrás los pétalos; agitó las aguas; revolvió las hierbas en flor. •Unos segadores, que habían acampado debajo de los setos para deshacerse de la fatiga matutina durmiendo, abrieron cortinas de hojas verdes; movieron esferas temblorosas de perejil salvaje para ver el cielo; el cielo azul, constante, ardiente del verano.
•Aware that he was looking at a silver two-handled Jacobean mug, and that Hugh Whitbread admired condescendingly with airs of connoisseurship a Spanish necklace which he thought of asking the price of in case Evelyn might like it--still Richard was torpid; could not think or move. •Life had thrown up this wreckage; shop windows full of coloured paste, and one stood stark with the lethargy of the old, stiff with the rigidity of the old, looking in. •Evelyn Whitbread might like to buy this Spanish necklace--so she might. •Yawn he must. •Hugh was going into the shop.	•Consciente de que estaba mirando una taza jacobea plateada con dos asas, y de que Hugh Whitbread admiraba condescendientemente con aires de conocedor un collar español del que pensaba pedir el precio por si a Evelyn le gustaba , aún Richard seguía aletargado; no podía pensar ni moverse. •La vida había dejado estos restos: escaparates llenos de fantasías coloreadas y uno se quedaba inmóvil con el letargo de lo viejo, rígido con la rigidez de lo viejo, mirando hacia dentro. •A Evelyn Whitbread le gustaría comprar este collar español...es posible que lo haga. •Él necesitaba bostezar. •Hugh estaba entrando en la tienda.
•"Right you are!" •said Richard, following.	•"¡Tienes razón!", •dijo Richard, siguiéndole.
•Goodness knows he didn't want to go buying necklaces with Hugh. •But there are tides in the body. •Morning meets afternoon. •Borne like a frail shallop on deep, deep floods, Lady Bruton's great-grandfather and his memoir and his campaigns in North America were whelmed and sunk. •And Millicent Bruton too. •She went under. •Richard didn't care a straw what became of Emigration; about that letter, whether the editor put it in or not. •The necklace hung stretched between Hugh's admirable fingers. •Let him give it to a girl, if he must buy jewels--any girl, any girl in the street. •For the worthlessness of this life did strike Richard pretty forcibly--buying necklaces for Evelyn. •If he'd had a boy he'd have said, Work, work. •But he had his Elizabeth; he adored his Elizabeth.	•Dios sabe que él no quería ir a comprar collares con Hugh. •Pero hay mareas en el cuerpo. •Las mañanas encuentran las tardes. •Llevado como una chalupa frágil en muy poderosas inundaciones, el bisabuelo de Lady Bruton, sus memorias y sus campañas en América del Norte fueron ahogados y hundidos. •Y Millicent Bruton también. •Se sumergió. •A Richard no le importaba un rábano lo que fuera de la Emigración; de esa carta, si el editor la publicara o no. •El collar colgaba extendido entre los admirables dedos de Hugh. •Dejemos que se lo regale a una chica, si tiene que comprar joyas... a cualquier chica, a cualquier chica de la calle. •Porque la futilidad de esta vida golpeó a Richard con bastante fuerza... comprando collares para Evelyn. •Si hubiera tenido un hijo, le habría dicho: 'Trabaja, trabaja'. •Pero tenía a su Elizabeth; adoraba a su Elizabeth.
•"I should like to see Mr. Dubonnet," said Hugh in his curt worldly way. •It appeared that this Dubonnet had the measurements of Mrs. Whitbread's neck, or, more strangely still, knew her views upon Spanish jewellery and the extent of her possessions in that line (which Hugh could not remember). •All of which seemed to Richard Dalloway awfully odd. •For he never gave Clarissa presents, except a bracelet two or three years ago, which had not been a success. •She never wore it. •It pained him to remember that she never wore it. •And as a single spider's thread after wavering here and there attaches itself to the point of a leaf, so Richard's mind, recovering from its lethargy, set now on his wife, Clarissa, whom Peter Walsh had loved so passionately; and Richard had had a sudden vision of her there at luncheon; of himself and Clarissa; of their life together; and he drew the tray of old jewels towards him, and taking up first this brooch then that ring, "How much is that?" •he asked, but doubted his own taste. •He wanted to open the drawing-room door and come in holding out something; a present for Clarissa. •Only what? •But Hugh was on his legs again. •He was unspeakably pompous. •Really, after dealing here for thirty-five years he was not going to be put off by a mere boy who did not know his business. •For Dubonnet, it seemed, was out, and Hugh would not buy anything until Mr. Dubonnet chose to be in; at which the youth flushed and bowed his correct little bow. •It was all perfectly correct. •And yet Richard couldn't have said that to save his life! •Why these people stood that damned insolence he could not conceive. •Hugh was becoming an intolerable ass. •Richard Dalloway could not stand more than an hour of his society. •And, flicking his bowler hat by way of farewell, Richard turned at the corner of Conduit Street eager, yes, very eager, to travel that spider's thread of attachment between himself and Clarissa; he would go straight to her, in Westminster.	•"Quisiera ver al señor Dubonnet", dijo Hugh, en su manera seca y mundana. •Aparentemente, este Dubonnet conocía las medidas del cuello de la Sra. Whitbread o, lo que es más extraño aún, conocía su opinión sobre las joyas españolas y la cuantía de sus posesiones en ese aspecto (que Hugh no podía recordar). •Todo eso parecía muy extraño a Richard Dalloway. •Porque nunca daba regalos a Clarissa, excepto una pulsera hacía dos o tres años, que no tuvo éxito. •Nunca la llevaba. •Le dolía recordar que ella nunca la había usado. •Y, como un solo hilo de araña se adhiere a la punta de una hoja después de oscilar aquí y allá, la mente de Richard, recuperándose de su letargo, se fijó ahora en su esposa, Clarissa, a quien Peter Walsh había amado tan apasionadamente; y Richard tuvo una visión repentina de ella allí, en el almuerzo; de él mismo y Clarissa; de su vida juntos; y acercó hacia sí la bandeja de joyas antiguas, y cogiendo primero este broche y luego aquel anillo, ''¿Cuánto cuesta eso?''. •preguntó, pero dudó de su propio gusto. •Quería abrir la puerta del salón y entrar llevando algo; un regalo para Clarissa. •¿Pero qué? •Pero Hugh ya se había recuperado. •Estaba increíblemente presumido. •Realmente, después de negociar aquí desde hacía treinta y cinco años, no iba a dejarse intimidar por un simple chico que no sabía nada de su negocio. •Al parecer, Dubonnet estaba fuera, y Hugh no compraría nada hasta que el Sr. Dubonnet decidiera entrar; ante lo cual el joven se sonrojó e inclinó muy cortésmente la cabeza. •Todo estaba perfectamente correcto. •¡Y sin embargo, Richard no habría podido decir eso ni aunque su vida dependiera de ello! •Por qué esa gente soportaba esa maldita insolencia, él no podía concebírlo. •Hugh se estaba convirtiendo en un imbécil insoportable. •Richard Dalloway no podía soportar su compañía por más de una hora. •E, inclinando rápidamente su bombín como despedida, Richard se dio la vuelta en la esquina de Conduit Street, deseoso, sí, muy deseoso, de recorrer ese hilo de araña que lo apegaba a Clarissa; él iría directamente a ella, en Westminster.
•But he wanted to come in holding something. •Flowers? •Yes, flowers, since he did not trust his taste in gold; any number of flowers, roses, orchids, to celebrate what was, reckoning things as you will, an event; this feeling about her when they spoke of Peter Walsh at luncheon; and they never spoke of it; not for years had they spoken of it; which, he thought, grasping his red and white roses together (a vast bunch in tissue paper), is the greatest mistake in the world. •The time comes when it can't be said; one's too shy to say it, he thought, pocketing his sixpence or two of change, setting off with his great bunch held against his body to Westminster to say straight out in so many words (whatever she might think of him), holding out his flowers, "I love you." •Why not? •Really it was a miracle thinking of the war, and thousands of poor chaps, with all their lives before them, shovelled together, already half forgotten; it was a miracle. •Here he was walking across London to say to Clarissa in so many words that he loved her. •Which one never does say, he thought. •Partly one's lazy; partly one's shy. •And Clarissa--it was difficult to think of her; except in starts, as at luncheon, when he saw her quite distinctly; their whole life. •He stopped at the crossing; and repeated--being simple by nature, and undebauched, because he had tramped, and shot; being pertinacious and dogged, having championed the down-trodden and followed his instincts in the House of Commons; being preserved in his simplicity yet at the same time grown rather speechless, rather stiff--he repeated that it was a miracle that he should have married Clarissa; a miracle--his life had been a miracle, he thought; hesitating to cross. •But it did make his blood boil to see little creatures of five or six crossing Piccadilly alone. •The police ought to have stopped the traffic at once. •He had no illusions about the London police. •Indeed, he was collecting evidence of their malpractices; and those costermongers, not allowed to stand their barrows in the streets; and prostitutes, good Lord, the fault wasn't in them, nor in young men either, but in our detestable social system and so forth; all of which he considered, could be seen considering, grey, dogged, dapper, clean, as he walked across the Park to tell his wife that he loved her.	•Pero quería entrar con algo en las manos. •¿Flores? •Sí, flores, ya que no confiaba en su gusto por el oro; cualquier cantidad de flores, rosas, orquídeas, para celebrar lo que era, se lo mire como se lo mire, un acontecimiento; este sentimiento hacia ella cuando hablaban de Peter Walsh durante el almuerzo; y nunca hablaban de eso; hacía años que no hablaban de eso; lo cual, pensó, agarrando sus rosas rojas y blancas (un enorme ramo envuelto en papel de seda), es el mayor error del mundo. •Llega un momento en que no se puede decir; uno es demasiado tímido para decirlo, pensó, guardándose en el bolsillo sus seis o dos peniques de cambio, y partiendo hacia Westmister, con su gran ramo apretado contra el cuerpo, para decirle directamente con todas las palabras (pensara ella lo que pensara de él), tendiéndole las flores: "Te quiero". •¿Por qué no? •Realmente era un milagro pensar en la guerra y en los miles de pobres tipos, con toda la vida por delante, amontonados, ya medio olvidados; era un milagro. •Aquí estaba, caminando a través de Londres para decirle a Clarissa con todas las palabras que la amaba. •Lo que nunca se dice, pensó. •En parte por pereza; en parte por timidez. •Y Clarissa...era difícil pensar en ella; excepto en momentos puntuales, como el almuerzo, cuando la vió muy claramente; su vida entera. •Se detuvo en el cruce; y repitió, siendo simple por naturaleza, y no disoluto, porque había marchado y disparado; siendo pertinaz y obstinado, habiendo defendido a los oprimidos y seguido sus instintos en la Cámara de los Comunes; siendo preservado en su simplicidad pero al mismo tiempo crecido algo enmudecido, bastante rígido; repitió que era un milagro que se hubiera casado con Clarissa; un milagro, su vida había sido un milagro, pensó; vacilando para cruzar. •Pero le hacía verdaderamente hervir la sangre ver a pequeñas criaturas de cinco o seis años cruzando Piccadilly solas. •La policía debería haber detenido el tráfico de inmediato. •No tenía ilusiones sobre la policía de Londres. •De hecho, estaba recopilando pruebas de sus malas prácticas; y aquellos vendedores ambulantes, a los que no se les permitía colocar sus puestos en las calles; y las prostitutas, Dios mío, la culpa no era suya, ni tampoco de los jóvenes, sino de nuestro detestable sistema social y demás; todo lo que él consideraba, se podía tener presente, gris, tenaz, elegante, limpio, mientras cruzaba el parque para decirle a su esposa que la amaba.
•For he would say it in so many words, when he came into the room. •Because it is a thousand pities never to say what one feels, he thought, crossing the Green Park and observing with pleasure how in the shade of the trees whole families, poor families, were sprawling; children kicking up their legs; sucking milk; paper bags thrown about, which could easily be picked up (if people objected) by one of those fat gentlemen in livery; for he was of opinion that every park, and every square, during the summer months should be open to children (the grass of the park flushed and faded, lighting up the poor mothers of Westminster and their crawling babies, as if a yellow lamp were moved beneath). •But what could be done for female vagrants like that poor creature, stretched on her elbow (as if she had flung herself on the earth, rid of all ties, to observe curiously, to speculate boldly, to consider the whys and the wherefores, impudent, loose-lipped, humorous), he did not know. •Bearing his flowers like a weapon, Richard Dalloway approached her; intent he passed her; still there was time for a spark between them--she laughed at the sight of him, he smiled good-humouredly, considering the problem of the female vagrant; not that they would ever speak. •But he would tell Clarissa that he loved her, in so many words. •He had, once upon a time, been jealous of Peter Walsh; jealous of him and Clarissa. •But she had often said to him that she had been right not to marry Peter Walsh; which, knowing Clarissa, was obviously true; she wanted support. •Not that she was weak; but she wanted support.	•Porque se lo diría con todas las palabras cuando entrara en la habitación. •Porque es una lástima no decir nunca lo que se siente, pensó, cruzando el Green Park y observando con placer cómo se tumbaban, a la sombra de los árboles, familias enteras, familias pobres; los niños dando patadas al aire, mamando leche, bolsas de papel tiradas alrededor, que podían ser fácilmente recogidas (si la gente lo objetaba) por uno de esos gordos caballeros con librea; pues opinaba que todos los parques y todas las plazas, durante los meses de verano, debían estar abiertos a los niños (la hierba del parque, enrojecida y marchita, iluminaba a las madres pobres de Westminster y a sus bebés que gateaban, como si una lámpara amarilla se moviera por debajo). •Pero él no sabía qué se podía hacer por las vagabundas como aquella pobre criatura, apoyada sobre su codo (como si se hubiera tirado al suelo, libre de toda atadura, para observar con curiosidad, especular con audacia, considerar los porqués y los cómo, descarada, chismosa, divertida). •Llevando sus flores como un arma, Richard Dalloway se acercó a ella; con determinación, pasó junto a ella; pero aún hubo tiempo para que surgiera una chispa entre ellos: ella se rió al verlo, él sonrió amablemente, pensando en el problema de las vagabundas; aunque nunca llegarían a hablar. •Pero le diría a Clarissa que la quería, con todas las palabras. •Él, en otro tiempo, había estado celoso de Peter Walsh; celoso de él y de Clarissa. •Pero ella le había dicho muchas veces que había hecho bien en no casarse con Peter Walsh; lo cual, conociendo a Clarissa, era obviamente cierto; ella quería apoyo. •No es que ella fuera débil, pero necesitaba apoyo.
•As for Buckingham Palace (like an old prima donna facing the audience all in white) you can't deny it a certain dignity, he considered, nor despise what does, after all, stand to millions of people (a little crowd was waiting at the gate to see the King drive out) for a symbol, absurd though it is; a child with a box of bricks could have done better, he thought; looking at the memorial to Queen Victoria (whom he could remember in her horn spectacles driving through Kensington), its white mound, its billowing motherliness; but he liked being ruled by the descendant of Horsa; he liked continuity; and the sense of handing on the traditions of the past. •It was a great age in which to have lived. •Indeed, his own life was a miracle; let him make no mistake about it; here he was, in the prime of life, walking to his house in Westminster to tell Clarissa that he loved her. •Happiness is this he thought.	•En cuanto al Palacio de Buckingham (como una vieja prima donna, frente a la audiencia, vestida de blanco) no se le puede negar una cierta dignidad, consideró, ni despreciar lo que, después de todo, representa para millones de personas (una pequeña multitud estaba esperando en la puerta para ver salir al Rey), un símbolo, aunque sea absurdo; un niño con una caja de ladrillos podría haber hecho mejor, pensó; mirando el monumento a la reina Victoria (a quien recordaba con sus gafas de cuerno conducida por Kensington), el montículo blanco, su ternura maternal ondulante; pero le gustaba ser gobernado por el descendiente de Horsa; le gustaba la continuidad; y el sentido de transmitir las tradiciones del pasado. •Era una gran época para vivir. •De hecho, su propia vida era un milagro; que no se equivoque al respecto; aquí estaba, en la flor de la vida, caminando hacia su casa en Westminster para decirle a Clarissa que la amaba. •Felicidad es esto, pensó.
•It is this, he said, as he entered Dean's Yard. •Big Ben was beginning to strike, first the warning, musical; then the hour, irrevocable. •Lunch parties waste the entire afternoon, he thought, approaching his door.	•Es esto, dijo, cuando entró en Dean's Yard. •El Big Ben comenzaba a dar las horas, primero el aviso, musical; luego la hora, irrevocable. •Las comidas con invitados hacen perder toda la tarde, pensó, acercándose a la puerta.
•The sound of Big Ben flooded Clarissa's drawing-room, where she sat, ever so annoyed, at her writing-table; worried; annoyed. •It was perfectly true that she had not asked Ellie Henderson to her party; but she had done it on purpose. •Now Mrs. Marsham wrote "she had told Ellie Henderson she would ask Clarissa--Ellie so much wanted to come."	•El sonido del Big Ben inundó el salón de Clarissa, donde estaba sentada, muy molesta, en su escritorio; preocupada; irritada. •Era totalmente cierto que no había invitado a Ellie Henderson a su fiesta, pero lo había hecho a propósito. •Ahora la Sra. Marsham escribía que le había dicho a Ellie Henderson que le pediría a Clarissa, ya que Ellie tenía muchas ganas de venir.
•But why should she invite all the dull women in London to her parties? •Why should Mrs. Marsham interfere? •And there was Elizabeth closeted all this time with Doris Kilman. •Anything more nauseating she could not conceive. •Prayer at this hour with that woman. •And the sound of the bell flooded the room with its melancholy wave; which receded, and gathered itself together to fall once more, when she heard, distractingly, something fumbling, something scratching at the door. •Who at this hour? •Three, good Heavens! •Three already! •For with overpowering directness and dignity the clock struck three; and she heard nothing else; but the door handle slipped round and in came Richard! •What a surprise! •In came Richard, holding out flowers. •She had failed him, once at Constantinople; and Lady Bruton, whose lunch parties were said to be extraordinarily amusing, had not asked her. •He was holding out flowers--roses, red and white roses. •(But he could not bring himself to say he loved her; not in so many words.)	•¿Pero por qué debería invitar a todas la mujeres aburridas de Londres a sus fiestas? •¿Por qué debería interferir la señora Marsham? •Y Elizabeth estaba encerrada todo este tiempo con Doris Kilman. •No podía concebir algo más repugnante. •Rezar a esta hora con esa mujer. •Y el sonido del timbre inundó la habitación con su onda melancólica; retrocedió y se reunió para caer una vez más cuando ella escuchó, distraídamente, algo que se movía torpemente, algo que arañaba la puerta. •¿Quién a esta hora? •¡Tres, Madre mía! •¡Ya son las tres! •Porque con aplastante llaneza y dignidad el reloj golpeó las tres; y ella no oyó nada más; pero la manija de la puerta giró ¡y Richard entró! •¡Qué sorpresa! •Richard entró, llevando flores. •Ella le había fallado, una vez en Constantinopla; y Lady Bruton, cuyas fiestas tenían fama de ser extraordinariamente divertidas, no le había preguntado. •Estaba llevando flores: rosas, rosas rojas y blancas. •(Pero no pudo atreverse a decir que la amaba; no con todas las palabras.)
•But how lovely, she said, taking his flowers. •She understood; she understood without his speaking; his Clarissa. •She put them in vases on the mantelpiece. •How lovely they looked! •she said. •And was it amusing, she asked? •Had Lady Bruton asked after her? •Peter Walsh was back. •Mrs. Marsham had written. •Must she ask Ellie Henderson? •That woman Kilman was upstairs.	•Pero qué encantador, dijo ella, tomando sus flores. •Ella entendió; comprendió sin que él hablara; su Clarissa. •Las puso en floreros sobre la repisa de la chimenea. •¡Qué bonitas se veían! •dijo ella. •¿Y era divertido?, preguntó ella. •¿Había lady Bruton preguntado por ella? •Peter Walsh había regresado. •La Sra. Marsham había escrito. •¿Ella debe preguntarle a Ellie Henderson? •Esa mujer, Kilman, estaba arriba.
•"But let us sit down for five minutes," said Richard.	•''Pero, sentémonos cinco minutos'', dijo Richard.
•It all looked so empty. •All the chairs were against the wall. •What had they been doing? •Oh, it was for the party; no, he had not forgotten, the party. •Peter Walsh was back. •Oh yes; she had had him. •And he was going to get a divorce; and he was in love with some woman out there. •And he hadn't changed in the slightest. •There she was, mending her dress. •. •. •.	•Todo pareció tan vacío. •Todas las sillas estaban contra la pared. •¿Qué habían hecho? •Oh, era para la fiesta; no, no había olvidado, la fiesta. •Peter Walsh ha vuelto. •¡Ah, sí! la había visitado. •Y él iba a divorciarse; y estaba enamorado de una mujer de allí. •Y no había cambiado en absoluto. •Allí estaba ella, remendando su vestido. •. •. •.
•"Thinking of Bourton," she said.	•"Pensando en Bourton", dijo.
•"Hugh was at lunch," said Richard. •She had met him too! •Well, he was getting absolutely intolerable. •Buying Evelyn necklaces; fatter than ever; an intolerable ass.	•"Hugh estuvo en el almuerzo", dijo Richard. •¡Ella también se había reunido con él! •Bueno, Hugh se estaba volviendo absolutamente insoportable. •Comprando collares para Evelyn; más gordo que nunca; un imbécil insoportable.
•"And it came over me 'I might have married you,'" she said, thinking of Peter sitting there in his little bow-tie; with that knife, opening it, shutting it. •"Just as he always was, you know."	•"Y se me ocurrió: 'Podría haberme casado contigo'", dijo ella, pensando en Peter, sentado allí, con su corbatita de moño, abriendo y cerrando el cuchillo. •"Tal cual como siempre fue, ya sabes".
•They were talking about him at lunch, said Richard. •(But he could not tell her he loved her. •He held her hand. •Happiness is this, he thought.) •They had been writing a letter to the Times for Millicent Bruton. •That was about all Hugh was fit for.	•Habían hablado de él durante el almuerzo, dijo Richard. •( Pero no podía decirle que la amaba. •Él le tomó la mano. •Esto es la felicidad, pensó él). •Habían escrito una carta al Times por Millicent Bruton. •Eso era todo lo que Hugh era capaz de hacer.
•"And our dear Miss Kilman?" •he asked. •Clarissa thought the roses absolutely lovely; first bunched together; now of their own accord starting apart.	•''¿Y nuestra querida Srta. Kilman?'' •preguntó él. •A Clarissa le parecieron preciosas las rosas; primero agrupadas, ahora separándose por sí solas.
•"Kilman arrives just as we've done lunch," she said. •"Elizabeth turns pink. •They shut themselves up. •I suppose they're praying."	•"Kilman llega justo cuando terminamos el almuerzo", dijo. •"Elizabeth se ruboriza. •Se han encerrado. •Supongo que están rezando".
•Lord! •He didn't like it; but these things pass over if you let them.	•¡Señor! •No le gustaba; pero estas cosas pasan si las dejas.
•"In a mackintosh with an umbrella," said Clarissa.	•"Con un impermeable y un paraguas", dijo Clarissa.
•He had not said "I love you"; but he held her hand. •Happiness is this, is this, he thought.	•No había dicho "te amo"; pero le apretaba la mano. •La felicidad es esto, es esto, pensó.
•"But why should I ask all the dull women in London to my parties?" •said Clarissa. •And if Mrs. Marsham gave a party, did she invite her guests?	•"Pero ¿por qué debería invitar a todas las mujeres aburridas de Londres a mis fiestas?", •dijo Clarissa. •Y si la Sra. Marsham daba una fiesta, ¿invitaba a sus invitados?
•"Poor Ellie Henderson," said Richard--it was a very odd thing how much Clarissa minded about her parties, he thought.	•"Pobre Ellie Henderson", dijo Richard; era muy raro lo mucho que le importaban a Clarissa sus fiestas, pensó.
•But Richard had no notion of the look of a room. •However--what was he going to say?	•Pero Richard no tenía ni idea del aspecto de una sala. •Pero... ¿qué iba a decir?
•If she worried about these parties he would not let her give them. •Did she wish she had married Peter? •But he must go.	•Si ella se preocupaba por estas fiestas, él no le permitiría organizarlas. •¿Deseaba haberse casado con Peter? •Pero tenía que irse.
•He must be off, he said, getting up. •But he stood for a moment as if he were about to say something; and she wondered what? •Why? •There were the roses.	•Debía marcharse, dijo, levantándose. •Pero se quedó un momento, como si fuera a decir algo; y ella se preguntó ¿qué? •¿Por qué? •Ahí estaban las rosas.
•"Some Committee?" •she asked, as he opened the door.	•"¿Algún comité?" •preguntó ella, cuando él abríó la puerta.
•"Armenians," he said; or perhaps it was "Albanians."	•"Unos armenios", dijo; o tal vez fue "unos albaneses".
•And there is a dignity in people; a solitude; even between husband and wife a gulf; and that one must respect, thought Clarissa, watching him open the door; for one would not part with it oneself, or take it, against his will, from one's husband, without losing one's independence, one's self-respect--something, after all, priceless.	•Y hay dignidad en las personas; hay una soledad; incluso entre marido y mujer hay un abismo; y eso hay que respetarlo, pensó Clarissa, viéndole abrir la puerta; porque uno no renunciaría a ello ni se lo quitaría a su marido contra su voluntad sin perder su independencia, su autoestima... algo que, al fin y al cabo, no tiene precio.
•He returned with a pillow and a quilt.	•Él volvió con una almohada y una colcha.
•"An hour's complete rest after luncheon," he said. •And he went.	•"Una hora de descanso total después de comer", dijo. •Y se fue.
•How like him! •He would go on saying "An hour's complete rest after luncheon" to the end of time, because a doctor had ordered it once. •It was like him to take what doctors said literally; part of his adorable, divine simplicity, which no one had to the same extent; which made him go and do the thing while she and Peter frittered their time away bickering. •He was already halfway to the House of Commons, to his Armenians, his Albanians, having settled her on the sofa, looking at his roses. •And people would say, "Clarissa Dalloway is spoilt." •She cared much more for her roses than for the Armenians. •Hunted out of existence, maimed, frozen, the victims of cruelty and injustice (she had heard Richard say so over and over again)--no, she could feel nothing for the Albanians, or was it the Armenians? •but she loved her roses (didn't that help the Armenians?) •--the only flowers she could bear to see cut. •But Richard was already at the House of Commons; at his Committee, having settled all her difficulties. •But no; alas, that was not true. •He did not see the reasons against asking Ellie Henderson. •She would do it, of course, as he wished it. •Since he had brought the pillows, she would lie down. •. •. •. •But--but--why did she suddenly feel, for no reason that she could discover, desperately unhappy? •As a person who has dropped some grain of pearl or diamond into the grass and parts the tall blades very carefully, this way and that, and searches here and there vainly, and at last spies it there at the roots, so she went through one thing and another; no, it was not Sally Seton saying that Richard would never be in the Cabinet because he had a second-class brain (it came back to her); no, she did not mind that; nor was it to do with Elizabeth either and Doris Kilman; those were facts. •It was a feeling, some unpleasant feeling, earlier in the day perhaps; something that Peter had said, combined with some depression of her own, in her bedroom, taking off her hat; and what Richard had said had added to it, but what had he said? •There were his roses. •Her parties! •That was it! •Her parties! •Both of them criticised her very unfairly, laughed at her very unjustly, for her parties. •That was it! •That was it!	•¡Qué típico de él! •Seguiría diciendo "Una hora de descanso total después de comer" hasta el fin de los tiempos, porque un médico se lo había recetado una vez. •Era típico de él tomarse al pie de la letra lo que decían los médicos; formaba parte de su adorable y divina simpleza, que nadie más tenía en la misma medida; eso le hacía ir y hacer lo que había que hacer, mientras ella y Peter perdían su tiempo discutiendo. •Ya estaba a medio camino de la Cámara de los Comunes, a sus armenios, sus albaneses, habiéndola instalado en el sofá, mirando sus rosas. •Y la gente diría, "Clarissa Dalloway es mimada"." •Le importaban mucho más sus rosas que los armenios. •Perseguidas hasta la extinción, mutiladas, congeladas, las víctimas de la crueldad y la injusticia (ella había oído a Richard decirlo una y otra vez)... no, no podía sentir nada por los albaneses, ¿o eran los armenios? •pero ella amaba sus rosas (¿eso no ayudaba a los armenios?) •... las únicas flores que podía soportar ver cortadas. •Pero Richard ya estaba en la Cámara de los Comunes, en su comité, habiendo resuelto todas las dificultades que ella tenía. •Pero no, lamentablemente, eso no era cierto. •Él no veía las razones para no invitar a Ellie Henderson. •Ella lo haría, claro, como él lo quería. •Como él había traído las almohadas, ella se acostaría. •. •. •. •Pero... pero... ¿por qué de repente se sentía, sin motivo aparente, desesperadamente infeliz? •Como una persona que ha dejado caer un grano de perla o diamante en la hierba y aparta las hojas altas muy cuidadosamente, de un lado y otro, busca aquí y allá en vano, y al final lo ve allí en las raíces, así ella pasó por una cosa y otra; no, no era Sally Seton diciendo que Richard nunca estaría en el Gabinete porque tenía un cerebro de segunda clase (le volvió a la mente); no, no le importaba eso; tampoco tenía que ver con Elizabeth y Doris Kilman; esos eran hechos. •Era un sentimiento, algún sentimiento desagradable, quizás más temprano en el día; algo que Peter había dicho, combinado con alguna depresión propia, en su habitación, quitándose el sombrero; y lo que Richard había dicho había agregado a eso, pero ¿qué había dicho? •Allí estaban sus rosas. •¡Sus fiestas! •¡Eso era! •¡Sus fiestas! •Ambos la criticaron muy injustamente, se rieron de ella de manera muy injusta, por sus fiestas. •¡Eso era! •¡Eso era!
•Well, how was she going to defend herself? •Now that she knew what it was, she felt perfectly happy. •They thought, or Peter at any rate thought, that she enjoyed imposing herself; liked to have famous people about her; great names; was simply a snob in short. •Well, Peter might think so. •Richard merely thought it foolish of her to like excitement when she knew it was bad for her heart. •It was childish, he thought. •And both were quite wrong. •What she liked was simply life.	•Bueno, ¿cómo iba a defenderse? •Ahora que sabía lo que era, se sentía perfectamente feliz. •Pensaban, o al menos Peter pensaba, que a ella le gustaba imponerse, que le gustaba rodearse de gente famosa, de grandes nombres; que, en resumen, era simplemente una esnob. •Bueno, Peter lo puede pensar. •Richard simplemente pensó que era una tontería de ella que le gustara la emoción, cuando sabía que era malo para su corazón. •Era infantil, pensó él. •Y ambos estaban muy equivocados. •Lo que ella quería era simplemente la vida.
•"That's what I do it for," she said, speaking aloud, to life.	•''Es por eso que lo hago'' dijo ella, hablando en voz alta, a la vida.
•Since she was lying on the sofa, cloistered, exempt, the presence of this thing which she felt to be so obvious became physically existent; with robes of sound from the street, sunny, with hot breath, whispering, blowing out the blinds. •But suppose Peter said to her, "Yes, yes, but your parties--what's the sense of your parties?" •all she could say was (and nobody could be expected to understand): They're an offering; which sounded horribly vague. •But who was Peter to make out that life was all plain sailing?--Peter always in love, always in love with the wrong woman? •What's your love? •she might say to him. •And she knew his answer; how it is the most important thing in the world and no woman possibly understood it. •Very well. •But could any man understand what she meant either? •about life? •She could not imagine Peter or Richard taking the trouble to give a party for no reason whatever.	•Ya que estaba acostada en el sofá, recluida, exenta, la presencia de esta cosa que ella sintió tan evidente, se hizo físicamente existente; con túnicas de sonido desde la calle, soleada, con aliento caliente, susurrando, soplando en las persianas. •Pero supongamos que Peter le dice: "Sí, sí, pero tus fiestas, ¿cuál es el sentido de tus fiestas?" •todo lo que ella podría decir era (y no se podría esperar que nadie lo entendiera): "Son una ofrenda; lo que sonaba horriblemente vago. •Pero, ¿quién era Peter para afirmar que la vida era un juego de niños?... ¿Peter, siempre enamorado, siempre enamorado de la mujer equivocada? •¿Qué es el amor para ti? •podría preguntarle ella. •Y sabía cuál sería su respuesta: que es lo más importante del mundo y que ninguna mujer puede entenderlo. •Muy bien. •Pero ¿podría algún hombre entender lo que ella quería decir? •¿sobre la vida? •Ella no podía imaginar a Peter o a Richard tomándose la molestia de organizar una fiesta sin ningún motivo.
•But to go deeper, beneath what people said (and these judgements, how superficial, how fragmentary they are!) •in her own mind now, what did it mean to her, this thing she called life? •Oh, it was very queer. •Here was So-and-so in South Kensington; some one up in Bayswater; and somebody else, say, in Mayfair. •And she felt quite continuously a sense of their existence; and she felt what a waste; and she felt what a pity; and she felt if only they could be brought together; so she did it. •And it was an offering; to combine, to create; but to whom?	•Pero para profundizar más, más allá de lo que la gente decía (¡y qué superficiales y fragmentarias son esas opiniones!), •en su propia mente, ¿qué significa esto que ella llama vida? •Oh, era muy raro. •Aquí estaba fulano en South Kensington; alguien en Bayswater; y alguien más, digamos, en Mayfair. •Y sintió continuamente una sensación de su existencia; y sintió qué desperdicio; y sintió qué lástima; y sintió si solo pudieran ser reunidos; así lo hizo. •Y era una ofrenda; el combinar, el crear; pero ¿a quién?
•An offering for the sake of offering, perhaps. •Anyhow, it was her gift. •Nothing else had she of the slightest importance; could not think, write, even play the piano. •She muddled Armenians and Turks; loved success; hated discomfort; must be liked; talked oceans of nonsense: and to this day, ask her what the Equator was, and she did not know. •All the same, that one day should follow another; Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday; that one should wake up in the morning; see the sky; walk in the park; meet Hugh Whitbread; then suddenly in came Peter; then these roses; it was enough. •After that, how unbelievable death was!--that it must end; and no one in the whole world would know how she had loved it all; how, every instant . •. •.	•Una ofrenda por ofrecer, quizás. •De todos modos, era su regalo. •No tenía nada más de la menor importancia; no podía pensar, escribir, ni siquiera tocar el piano. •Ella confundía armenios y turcos; amaba el éxito; odiaba la incomodidad; necesitaba agradar a los demás; decía tonterías sin parar: y hasta el día de hoy, si le preguntaban qué era el Ecuador, no sabía responder. •Aún así, que un día siguiera a otro; miércoles, jueves, viernes, sábado; que uno se despertara por la mañana; viera el cielo; paseara por el parque; se encontrara con Hugh Whitbread; de repente apareciera Peter, y luego estas rosas; era suficiente. •Después de eso, ¡qué increíble era la muerte!, que todo debía terminar y nadie en el mundo entero sabría cuánto lo había amado todo, cómo, cada instante. •. •.
•The door opened. •Elizabeth knew that her mother was resting. •She came in very quietly. •She stood perfectly still. •Was it that some Mongol had been wrecked on the coast of Norfolk (as Mrs. Hilbery said), had mixed with the Dalloway ladies, perhaps, a hundred years ago? •For the Dalloways, in general, were fair-haired; blue-eyed; Elizabeth, on the contrary, was dark; had Chinese eyes in a pale face; an Oriental mystery; was gentle, considerate, still. •As a child, she had had a perfect sense of humour; but now at seventeen, why, Clarissa could not in the least understand, she had become very serious; like a hyacinth, sheathed in glossy green, with buds just tinted, a hyacinth which has had no sun.	•La puerta se abrió. •Elizabeth sabía que su madre estaba descansando. •Entró muy silenciosamente. •Se quedó completamente quieta. •¿Era que algún mongol había naufragado en la costa de Norfolk (como decía la Sra. Hilbery) y se había mezclado con las damas Dalloway, tal vez, hacía cien años? •Porque los Dalloway, en general, eran rubios y de ojos azules; Elizabeth, por el contrario, era morena, tenía ojos achinados en un rostro pálido, un misterio oriental; era gentil, considerada, tranquila. •De niña, había tenido un sentido del humor perfecto; pero ahora, a los diecisiete años, Clarissa no podía entender en absoluto por qué se había vuelto tan seria; como un jacinto, envuelto en un verde brillante, con capullos apenas coloreados, un jacinto que no había visto el sol.
•She stood quite still and looked at her mother; but the door was ajar, and outside the door was Miss Kilman, as Clarissa knew; Miss Kilman in her mackintosh, listening to whatever they said.	•Ella se quedó quieta y miró a su madre; pero la puerta estaba entreabierta y al otro lado de la puerta estaba la Srta Kilman, como lo sabía Clarissa; la Srta Kilman con su impermeable, escuchando todo lo que decían.
•Yes, Miss Kilman stood on the landing, and wore a mackintosh; but had her reasons. •First, it was cheap; second, she was over forty; and did not, after all, dress to please. •She was poor, moreover; degradingly poor. •Otherwise she would not be taking jobs from people like the Dalloways; from rich people, who liked to be kind. •Mr. Dalloway, to do him justice, had been kind. •But Mrs. Dalloway had not. •She had been merely condescending. •She came from the most worthless of all classes--the rich, with a smattering of culture. •They had expensive things everywhere; pictures, carpets, lots of servants. •She considered that she had a perfect right to anything that the Dalloways did for her.	•Sí, la Srta Kilman se quedaba en el rellano y llevaba un impermeable, pero tenía sus razones. •Primero, era barato; segundo, ella tenía más de cuarenta años; y después de todo no se vestía para complacer. •Era pobre, además; degradantemente pobre. •De lo contrario, no estaría tomando trabajos de personas como los Dalloway; de gente rica, a la que gustaba ser bondadosa. •El Sr. Dalloway, para hacerle justicia, había sido amable. •Pero la Sra. Dalloway no. •Había sido meramente condescendiente. •Venía de la más inútil de todas las clases, los ricos, con un poco de cultura. •Tenían cosas caras por todas partes: cuadros, alfombras, un montón de sirvientes. •Ella consideraba que tenía perfecto derecho a todo lo que los Dalloway hicieran por ella.
•She had been cheated. •Yes, the word was no exaggeration, for surely a girl has a right to some kind of happiness? •And she had never been happy, what with being so clumsy and so poor. •And then, just as she might have had a chance at Miss Dolby's school, the war came; and she had never been able to tell lies. •Miss Dolby thought she would be happier with people who shared her views about the Germans. •She had had to go. •It was true that the family was of German origin; spelt the name Kiehlman in the eighteenth century; but her brother had been killed. •They turned her out because she would not pretend that the Germans were all villains--when she had German friends, when the only happy days of her life had been spent in Germany! •And after all, she could read history. •She had had to take whatever she could get. •Mr. Dalloway had come across her working for the Friends. •He had allowed her (and that was really generous of him) to teach his daughter history. •Also she did a little Extension lecturing and so on. •Then Our Lord had come to her (and here she always bowed her head). •She had seen the light two years and three months ago. •Now she did not envy women like Clarissa Dalloway; she pitied them.	•La habían engañado. •Sí, la palabra no era una exageración, porque seguramente una chica tiene derecho a algún tipo de felicidad, ¿no? •Y ella nunca había sido feliz, siendo tan torpe y tan pobre. •Y luego, justo cuando podría haber tenido una oportunidad en la escuela de la Srta. Dolby, llegó la guerra; y ella nunca había sido capaz de mentir. •La Srta. Dolby pensó que ella sería más feliz con gente que compartiera sus opiniones sobre los alemanes. •Tuvo que irse. •Era cierto que la familia era de origen alemán; en el siglo XVIII el apellido se escribía Kiehlman; pero habían matado a su hermano. •La echaron porque no quería fingir que todos los alemanes eran malvados... ¡cuando tenía amigos alemanes y los únicos días felices de su vida los había pasado en Alemania! •Y, después de todo, ella podía leer la historia. •Tuvo que tomar todo lo que podía. •El Sr. Dalloway le había encontrado cuando estaba trabajando para los Amigos. •Le había permitido (y eso fue muy generoso de su parte) enseñar historia a su hija. •También hizo un poco de docencia adicional y demás. •Entonces Nuestro Señor había venido a ella (y aquí siempre inclinaba la cabeza). •Había visto la luz hacía dos años y tres meses. •Ahora no envidiaba a las mujeres como Clarissa Dalloway; las compadecía.
•She pitied and despised them from the bottom of her heart, as she stood on the soft carpet, looking at the old engraving of a little girl with a muff. •With all this luxury going on, what hope was there for a better state of things? •Instead of lying on a sofa--"My mother is resting," Elizabeth had said--she should have been in a factory; behind a counter; Mrs. Dalloway and all the other fine ladies!	•Las compadecía y las despreciaba desde el fondo de su corazón, mientras estaba de pie sobre la suave alfombra, mirando el viejo grabado de una niña con un manguito. •Con todo este lujo alrededor, ¿qué esperanza había para un mejor estado de las cosas? •En vez de estar tirada en un sofá —"Mi mamá está descansando", había dicho Elizabeth—, debería estar en una fábrica, detrás de un mostrador; ¡la Sra. Dalloway y todas las otras damas elegantes!
•Bitter and burning, Miss Kilman had turned into a church two years three months ago. •She had heard the Rev. •Edward Whittaker preach; the boys sing; had seen the solemn lights descend, and whether it was the music, or the voices (she herself when alone in the evening found comfort in a violin; but the sound was excruciating; she had no ear), the hot and turbulent feelings which boiled and surged in her had been assuaged as she sat there, and she had wept copiously, and gone to call on Mr. Whittaker at his private house in Kensington. •It was the hand of God, he said. •The Lord had shown her the way. •So now, whenever the hot and painful feelings boiled within her, this hatred of Mrs. Dalloway, this grudge against the world, she thought of God. •She thought of Mr. Whittaker. •Rage was succeeded by calm. •A sweet savour filled her veins, her lips parted, and, standing formidable upon the landing in her mackintosh, she looked with steady and sinister serenity at Mrs. Dalloway, who came out with her daughter.	•Amargada y en llamas, la Srta. Kilman había vuelto a una iglesia hacía dos años y tres meses. •Había escuchado al reverendo •Edward Whittaker predicar; a los niños cantar; había visto descender las luces solemnes, y fuera por la música o por las voces (ella misma, cuando estaba sola por la noche, encontraba consuelo en un violín; pero el sonido era insoportable; no tenía oído), los sentimientos ardientes y turbulentos que hervían y se agitaban en ella se habían apaciguado mientras estaba allí sentada, había llorado copiosamente e ido a visitar al Sr. Whittaker a su casa privada en Kensington. •Fue la mano de Dios, dijo él. •El Señor le había mostrado el camino. •Así que ahora, cada vez que los sentimientos ardientes y dolorosos hervían en su interior, ese odio hacia la Sra. Dalloway, ese rencor contra el mundo, ella pensaba en Dios. •Pensaba en el Sr. Whittaker. •La ira fue sucedida por la calma. •Un sabor dulce rellenó sus venas, entreabrió los labios y, de pie, imponente, en el rellano con su impermeable, miró con una serenidad firme y siniestra a la señora Dalloway, que salía con su hija.
•Elizabeth said she had forgotten her gloves. •That was because Miss Kilman and her mother hated each other. •She could not bear to see them together. •She ran upstairs to find her gloves.	•Elizabeth dijo que había olvidado sus guantes. •Eso fue porque la señorita Kilman y su madre se odiaban. •No podía soportar verlas juntas. •Corrió arriba a buscar sus guantes.
•But Miss Kilman did not hate Mrs. Dalloway. •Turning her large gooseberry-coloured eyes upon Clarissa, observing her small pink face, her delicate body, her air of freshness and fashion, Miss Kilman felt, Fool! •Simpleton! •You who have known neither sorrow nor pleasure; who have trifled your life away! •And there rose in her an overmastering desire to overcome her; to unmask her. •If she could have felled her it would have eased her. •But it was not the body; it was the soul and its mockery that she wished to subdue; make feel her mastery. •If only she could make her weep; could ruin her; humiliate her; bring her to her knees crying, You are right! •But this was God's will, not Miss Kilman's. •It was to be a religious victory. •So she glared; so she glowered.	•Pero la señorita Kilman no odiaba a la Sra. Dalloway. •Mirando a Clarissa con sus grandes ojos de color grosellero, observando su pequeña cara rosada, su cuerpo delicado, su aire de frescura y moda, la señorita Kilman pensó: ¡Tonta! •¡Boba! •¡Usted que no ha conocido ni dolor ni placer; ¡Usted que ha desperdiciado su vida! •Y surgió en ella un deseo abrumador de superarla; de desenmascararla. •Si hubiera podido derribarla, se habría sentido aliviada. •Pero no era el cuerpo; era el alma y su burla lo que deseaba someter; hacerle sentir su dominio. •Si tan solo pudiera hacerla llorar; si pudiera arruinarla; humillarla; ponerla de rodillas llorando: "¡Tiene razón!". •Pero esta era la voluntad de Dios, no la de la Srta. Kilman. •Iba a ser una victoria religiosa. •Así que ella la miró con ira; así que ella la miró con el ceño fruncido.
•Clarissa was really shocked. •This a Christian--this woman! •This woman had taken her daughter from her! •She in touch with invisible presences! •Heavy, ugly, commonplace, without kindness or grace, she know the meaning of life!	•Clarissa estaba realmente consternada. •¡Esta es una cristiana, esta mujer! •¡Esta mujer le había quitado su hija! •¡Ella en contacto con presencias invisibles! •Pesada, fea, común, sin bondad o gracia, ¡podía saber el significado de la vida!
•"You are taking Elizabeth to the Stores?" •Mrs. Dalloway said.	•"¿Va a llevar a Elizabeth a las tiendas?", •dijo la Sra. Dalloway.
•Miss Kilman said she was. •They stood there. •Miss Kilman was not going to make herself agreeable. •She had always earned her living. •Her knowledge of modern history was thorough in the extreme. •She did out of her meagre income set aside so much for causes she believed in; whereas this woman did nothing, believed nothing; brought up her daughter--but here was Elizabeth, rather out of breath, the beautiful girl.	•La señorita Kilman dijo que sí. •Se quedaron allí. •Miss Kilman no iba a mostrarse agradable. •Siempre se había ganado la vida. •Su conocimiento de historia moderna era muy exhaustivo. •Ella destinaba gran parte de sus escasos ingresos a causas en las que creía, mientras que esta mujer no hacía nada, no creía en nada; crió a su hija... pero ahí estaba Elizabeth, un poco desalentada, la bonita joven.
•So they were going to the Stores. •Odd it was, as Miss Kilman stood there (and stand she did, with the power and taciturnity of some prehistoric monster armoured for primeval warfare), how, second by second, the idea of her diminished, how hatred (which was for ideas, not people) crumbled, how she lost her malignity, her size, became second by second merely Miss Kilman, in a mackintosh, whom Heaven knows Clarissa would have liked to help.	•Así que iban a las tiendas. •Era extraño, mientras la Srta. Kilman permanecía allí de pie (y permaneció de pie, con el poder y la taciturnidad de algún monstruo prehistórico blindado para la guerra primitiva), cómo, segundo a segundo, la idea que tenía de ella se desvanecía, cómo el odio (que era hacia las ideas, no hacia la persona) se desmoronaba, cómo perdía su maldad, su tamaño, y se convertía, segundo a segundo, en la simple Srta. Kilman, con su impermeable, a quien Dios sabe que a Clarissa le hubiera gustado ayudar.
•At this dwindling of the monster, Clarissa laughed. •Saying good-bye, she laughed.	•Al desvanecerse el monstruo, Clarissa se rio. •Despidiéndose, se rio.
•Off they went together, Miss Kilman and Elizabeth, downstairs.	•Bajaron juntas, la Srta Kilman y Elizabeth.
•With a sudden impulse, with a violent anguish, for this woman was taking her daughter from her, Clarissa leant over the bannisters and cried out, "Remember the party! •Remember our party tonight!"	•Con un impulso repentino, con una angustia violenta, porque esta mujer le estaba quitando su hija, Clarissa se inclinó sobre la barandilla y gritó: ''¡Recuerda la fiesta!. •¡Recuerda nuestra fiesta esta noche!''
•But Elizabeth had already opened the front door; there was a van passing; she did not answer.	•Pero Elizabeth ya había abierto la puerta principal; pasaba una furgoneta; no respondió.
•Love and religion! •thought Clarissa, going back into the drawing-room, tingling all over. •How detestable, how detestable they are! •For now that the body of Miss Kilman was not before her, it overwhelmed her--the idea. •The cruelest things in the world, she thought, seeing them clumsy, hot, domineering, hypocritical, eavesdropping, jealous, infinitely cruel and unscrupulous, dressed in a mackintosh coat, on the landing; love and religion. •Had she ever tried to convert any one herself? •Did she not wish everybody merely to be themselves? •And she watched out of the window the old lady opposite climbing upstairs. •Let her climb upstairs if she wanted to; let her stop; then let her, as Clarissa had often seen her, gain her bedroom, part her curtains, and disappear again into the background. •Somehow one respected that--that old woman looking out of the window, quite unconscious that she was being watched. •There was something solemn in it--but love and religion would destroy that, whatever it was, the privacy of the soul. •The odious Kilman would destroy it. •Yet it was a sight that made her want to cry.	•¡Amor y religión! •pensó Clarissa, volviendo a la sala de estar, con hormigueo por todas partes. •Qué detestable, ¡qué detestables son! •Porque ahora que la persona de la señorita Kilman no estaba delante de ella, la abrumaba: la idea. •Las cosas más crueles del mundo, pensó, viéndolas torpes, calientes, dominadoras, hipócritas, espiando, celosas, infinitamente crueles y sin escrúpulos, vestidas con un impermeable, en el rellano; amor y religión. •¿Había intentado ella alguna vez convertir a alguien? •¿No deseaba que todos fueran solamente ellos mismos? •Y miró por la ventana a la anciana de enfrente que subía las escaleras. •Dejarla subir las escaleras si quería; dejarla detenerse; luego dejarla, como Clarissa la había visto a menudo, llegar a su dormitorio, correr las cortinas y desaparecer de nuevo en la penumbra. •De alguna manera, uno respetaba eso: a esa anciana mirando por la ventana, sin darse cuenta de que era observada. •Había algo solemne en ello, pero el amor y la religión destruirían eso, fuera lo que fuera, la intimidad del alma. •La odiosa Kilman lo destruiría. •Sin embargo, era un espectáculo que le daba ganas de llorar.
•Love destroyed too. •Everything that was fine, everything that was true went. •Take Peter Walsh now. •There was a man, charming, clever, with ideas about everything. •If you wanted to know about Pope, say, or Addison, or just to talk nonsense, what people were like, what things meant, Peter knew better than any one. •It was Peter who had helped her; Peter who had lent her books. •But look at the women he loved--vulgar, trivial, commonplace. •Think of Peter in love--he came to see her after all these years, and what did he talk about? •Himself. •Horrible passion! •she thought. •Degrading passion! •she thought, thinking of Kilman and her Elizabeth walking to the Army and Navy Stores.	•El amor también destruyó. •Todo estaba bien, todo lo que era verdad desapareció. •Consideramos ahora a Peter Walsh. •Allí era un hombre, agradable, inteligente, con ideas para todo. •Si se quería saber acerca de Pope, por ejemplo, o Addison, o simplemente hablar tonterías, cómo eran las personas, lo que significaban las cosas, Peter sabía mejor que nadie. •Fue Peter quien la había ayudado; Peter que le había prestado libros. •Pero miren a las mujeres que amaba: vulgares, triviales, comunes. •Piensen en Peter enamorado: vino a verla después de todos estos años, ¿y de qué habló? •De él mismo. /De sí mismo. Aunque la traducción es textual, en español necesita la preposición para tener ilación con lo anterior. •¡Horrible pasión! •pensó. •¡Pasión degradante! •pensó, pensando en Kilman y su Elizabeth caminando a las tiendas del ejército y la marina.
•Big Ben struck the half-hour.	•El Big Ben dio la media hora.
•How extraordinary it was, strange, yes, touching, to see the old lady (they had been neighbours ever so many years) move away from the window, as if she were attached to that sound, that string. •Gigantic as it was, it had something to do with her. •Down, down, into the midst of ordinary things the finger fell making the moment solemn. •She was forced, so Clarissa imagined, by that sound, to move, to go--but where? •Clarissa tried to follow her as she turned and disappeared, and could still just see her white cap moving at the back of the bedroom. •She was still there moving about at the other end of the room. •Why creeds and prayers and mackintoshes? •when, thought Clarissa, that's the miracle, that's the mystery; that old lady, she meant, whom she could see going from chest of drawers to dressing-table. •She could still see her. •And the supreme mystery which Kilman might say she had solved, or Peter might say he had solved, but Clarissa didn't believe either of them had the ghost of an idea of solving, was simply this: here was one room; there another. •Did religion solve that, or love?	•Qué extraordinario era, extraño, sí, conmovedor, ver a la anciana (habían sido vecinas durante tantos años) alejarse de la ventana, como si estuviera unida a ese sonido, a ese acorde. •Por gigantesco que fuera, tenía algo que ver con ella. •Abajo, abajo, en medio de las cosas cotidianas, el toque cayó haciendo que el momento fuera solemne. •Clarissa imaginó que aquel sonido obligaba a la anciana a moverse, a irse... pero ¿adónde? •Clarissa tried to follow her as she turned and disappeared, and could still just see her white cap moving at the back of the bedroom. •She was still there moving about at the other end of the room. •Why creeds and prayers and mackintoshes? •when, thought Clarissa, that's the miracle, that's the mystery; that old lady, she meant, whom she could see going from chest of drawers to dressing-table. •She could still see her. •And the supreme mystery which Kilman might say she had solved, or Peter might say he had solved, but Clarissa didn't believe either of them had the ghost of an idea of solving, was simply this: here was one room; there another. •Did religion solve that, or love?
•Love--but here the other clock, the clock which always struck two minutes after Big Ben, came shuffling in with its lap full of odds and ends, which it dumped down as if Big Ben were all very well with his majesty laying down the law, so solemn, so just, but she must remember all sorts of little things besides--Mrs. Marsham, Ellie Henderson, glasses for ices--all sorts of little things came flooding and lapping and dancing in on the wake of that solemn stroke which lay flat like a bar of gold on the sea. •Mrs. Marsham, Ellie Henderson, glasses for ices. •She must telephone now at once.	•Love--but here the other clock, the clock which always struck two minutes after Big Ben, came shuffling in with its lap full of odds and ends, which it dumped down as if Big Ben were all very well with his majesty laying down the law, so solemn, so just, but she must remember all sorts of little things besides--Mrs. Marsham, Ellie Henderson, glasses for ices--all sorts of little things came flooding and lapping and dancing in on the wake of that solemn stroke which lay flat like a bar of gold on the sea. •Mrs. Marsham, Ellie Henderson, glasses for ices. •She must telephone now at once.
•Volubly, troublously, the late clock sounded, coming in on the wake of Big Ben, with its lap full of trifles. •Beaten up, broken up by the assault of carriages, the brutality of vans, the eager advance of myriads of angular men, of flaunting women, the domes and spires of offices and hospitals, the last relics of this lap full of odds and ends seemed to break, like the spray of an exhausted wave, upon the body of Miss Kilman standing still in the street for a moment to mutter "It is the flesh."	•Volubly, troublously, the late clock sounded, coming in on the wake of Big Ben, with its lap full of trifles. •Beaten up, broken up by the assault of carriages, the brutality of vans, the eager advance of myriads of angular men, of flaunting women, the domes and spires of offices and hospitals, the last relics of this lap full of odds and ends seemed to break, like the spray of an exhausted wave, upon the body of Miss Kilman standing still in the street for a moment to mutter "It is the flesh."
•It was the flesh that she must control. •Clarissa Dalloway had insulted her. •That she expected. •But she had not triumphed; she had not mastered the flesh. •Ugly, clumsy, Clarissa Dalloway had laughed at her for being that; and had revived the fleshly desires, for she minded looking as she did beside Clarissa. •Nor could she talk as she did. •But why wish to resemble her? •Why? •She despised Mrs. Dalloway from the bottom of her heart. •She was not serious. •She was not good. •Her life was a tissue of vanity and deceit. •Yet Doris Kilman had been overcome. •She had, as a matter of fact, very nearly burst into tears when Clarissa Dalloway laughed at her. •"It is the flesh, it is the flesh," she muttered (it being her habit to talk aloud) trying to subdue this turbulent and painful feeling as she walked down Victoria Street. •She prayed to God. •She could not help being ugly; she could not afford to buy pretty clothes. •Clarissa Dalloway had laughed--but she would concentrate her mind upon something else until she had reached the pillar-box. •At any rate she had got Elizabeth. •But she would think of something else; she would think of Russia; until she reached the pillar-box.	•It was the flesh that she must control. •Clarissa Dalloway had insulted her. •That she expected. •But she had not triumphed; she had not mastered the flesh. •Ugly, clumsy, Clarissa Dalloway had laughed at her for being that; and had revived the fleshly desires, for she minded looking as she did beside Clarissa. •Nor could she talk as she did. •But why wish to resemble her? •Why? •She despised Mrs. Dalloway from the bottom of her heart. •She was not serious. •She was not good. •Her life was a tissue of vanity and deceit. •Yet Doris Kilman had been overcome. •She had, as a matter of fact, very nearly burst into tears when Clarissa Dalloway laughed at her. •"It is the flesh, it is the flesh," she muttered (it being her habit to talk aloud) trying to subdue this turbulent and painful feeling as she walked down Victoria Street. •She prayed to God. •She could not help being ugly; she could not afford to buy pretty clothes. •Clarissa Dalloway had laughed--but she would concentrate her mind upon something else until she had reached the pillar-box. •At any rate she had got Elizabeth. •But she would think of something else; she would think of Russia; until she reached the pillar-box.
•How nice it must be, she said, in the country, struggling, as Mr. Whittaker had told her, with that violent grudge against the world which had scorned her, sneered at her, cast her off, beginning with this indignity--the infliction of her unlovable body which people could not bear to see. •Do her hair as she might, her forehead remained like an egg, bald, white. •No clothes suited her. •She might buy anything. •And for a woman, of course, that meant never meeting the opposite sex. •Never would she come first with any one. •Sometimes lately it had seemed to her that, except for Elizabeth, her food was all that she lived for; her comforts; her dinner, her tea; her hot-water bottle at night. •But one must fight; vanquish; have faith in God. •Mr. Whittaker had said she was there for a purpose. •But no one knew the agony! •He said, pointing to the crucifix, that God knew. •But why should she have to suffer when other women, like Clarissa Dalloway, escaped? •Knowledge comes through suffering, said Mr. Whittaker.	•How nice it must be, she said, in the country, struggling, as Mr. Whittaker had told her, with that violent grudge against the world which had scorned her, sneered at her, cast her off, beginning with this indignity--the infliction of her unlovable body which people could not bear to see. •Do her hair as she might, her forehead remained like an egg, bald, white. •No clothes suited her. •She might buy anything. •And for a woman, of course, that meant never meeting the opposite sex. •Never would she come first with any one. •Sometimes lately it had seemed to her that, except for Elizabeth, her food was all that she lived for; her comforts; her dinner, her tea; her hot-water bottle at night. •But one must fight; vanquish; have faith in God. •Mr. Whittaker had said she was there for a purpose. •But no one knew the agony! •He said, pointing to the crucifix, that God knew. •But why should she have to suffer when other women, like Clarissa Dalloway, escaped? •Knowledge comes through suffering, said Mr. Whittaker.
•She had passed the pillar-box, and Elizabeth had turned into the cool brown tobacco department of the Army and Navy Stores while she was still muttering to herself what Mr. Whittaker had said about knowledge coming through suffering and the flesh. •"The flesh," she muttered.	•She had passed the pillar-box, and Elizabeth had turned into the cool brown tobacco department of the Army and Navy Stores while she was still muttering to herself what Mr. Whittaker had said about knowledge coming through suffering and the flesh. •"The flesh," she muttered.
•What department did she want? •Elizabeth interrupted her.	•What department did she want? •Elizabeth interrupted her.
•"Petticoats," she said abruptly, and stalked straight on to the lift.	•"Petticoats," she said abruptly, and stalked straight on to the lift.
•Up they went. •Elizabeth guided her this way and that; guided her in her abstraction as if she had been a great child, an unwieldy battleship. •There were the petticoats, brown, decorous, striped, frivolous, solid, flimsy; and she chose, in her abstraction, portentously, and the girl serving thought her mad.	•Up they went. •Elizabeth guided her this way and that; guided her in her abstraction as if she had been a great child, an unwieldy battleship. •There were the petticoats, brown, decorous, striped, frivolous, solid, flimsy; and she chose, in her abstraction, portentously, and the girl serving thought her mad.
•Elizabeth rather wondered, as they did up the parcel, what Miss Kilman was thinking. •They must have their tea, said Miss Kilman, rousing, collecting herself. •They had their tea.	•Elizabeth rather wondered, as they did up the parcel, what Miss Kilman was thinking. •They must have their tea, said Miss Kilman, rousing, collecting herself. •They had their tea.
•Elizabeth rather wondered whether Miss Kilman could be hungry. •It was her way of eating, eating with intensity, then looking, again and again, at a plate of sugared cakes on the table next them; then, when a lady and a child sat down and the child took the cake, could Miss Kilman really mind it? •Yes, Miss Kilman did mind it. •She had wanted that cake--the pink one. •The pleasure of eating was almost the only pure pleasure left her, and then to be baffled even in that!	•Elizabeth rather wondered whether Miss Kilman could be hungry. •It was her way of eating, eating with intensity, then looking, again and again, at a plate of sugared cakes on the table next them; then, when a lady and a child sat down and the child took the cake, could Miss Kilman really mind it? •Yes, Miss Kilman did mind it. •She had wanted that cake--the pink one. •The pleasure of eating was almost the only pure pleasure left her, and then to be baffled even in that!
•When people are happy, they have a reserve, she had told Elizabeth, upon which to draw, whereas she was like a wheel without a tyre (she was fond of such metaphors), jolted by every pebble, so she would say staying on after the lesson standing by the fire-place with her bag of books, her "satchel," she called it, on a Tuesday morning, after the lesson was over. •And she talked too about the war. •After all, there were people who did not think the English invariably right. •There were books. •There were meetings. •There were other points of view. •Would Elizabeth like to come with her to listen to So-and-so (a most extraordinary looking old man)? •Then Miss Kilman took her to some church in Kensington and they had tea with a clergyman. •She had lent her books. •Law, medicine, politics, all professions are open to women of your generation, said Miss Kilman. •But for herself, her career was absolutely ruined and was it her fault? •Good gracious, said Elizabeth, no.	•When people are happy, they have a reserve, she had told Elizabeth, upon which to draw, whereas she was like a wheel without a tyre (she was fond of such metaphors), jolted by every pebble, so she would say staying on after the lesson standing by the fire-place with her bag of books, her "satchel," she called it, on a Tuesday morning, after the lesson was over. •And she talked too about the war. •After all, there were people who did not think the English invariably right. •There were books. •There were meetings. •There were other points of view. •Would Elizabeth like to come with her to listen to So-and-so (a most extraordinary looking old man)? •Then Miss Kilman took her to some church in Kensington and they had tea with a clergyman. •She had lent her books. •Law, medicine, politics, all professions are open to women of your generation, said Miss Kilman. •But for herself, her career was absolutely ruined and was it her fault? •Good gracious, said Elizabeth, no.
•And her mother would come calling to say that a hamper had come from Bourton and would Miss Kilman like some flowers? •To Miss Kilman she was always very, very nice, but Miss Kilman squashed the flowers all in a bunch, and hadn't any small talk, and what interested Miss Kilman bored her mother, and Miss Kilman and she were terrible together; and Miss Kilman swelled and looked very plain. •But then Miss Kilman was frightfully clever. •Elizabeth had never thought about the poor. •They lived with everything they wanted,--her mother had breakfast in bed every day; Lucy carried it up; and she liked old women because they were Duchesses, and being descended from some Lord. •But Miss Kilman said (one of those Tuesday mornings when the lesson was over), "My grandfather kept an oil and colour shop in Kensington." •Miss Kilman made one feel so small.	•And her mother would come calling to say that a hamper had come from Bourton and would Miss Kilman like some flowers? •To Miss Kilman she was always very, very nice, but Miss Kilman squashed the flowers all in a bunch, and hadn't any small talk, and what interested Miss Kilman bored her mother, and Miss Kilman and she were terrible together; and Miss Kilman swelled and looked very plain. •But then Miss Kilman was frightfully clever. •Elizabeth had never thought about the poor. •They lived with everything they wanted,--her mother had breakfast in bed every day; Lucy carried it up; and she liked old women because they were Duchesses, and being descended from some Lord. •But Miss Kilman said (one of those Tuesday mornings when the lesson was over), "My grandfather kept an oil and colour shop in Kensington." •Miss Kilman made one feel so small.
•Miss Kilman took another cup of tea. •Elizabeth, with her oriental bearing, her inscrutable mystery, sat perfectly upright; no, she did not want anything more. •She looked for her gloves--her white gloves. •They were under the table. •Ah, but she must not go! •Miss Kilman could not let her go! •this youth, that was so beautiful, this girl, whom she genuinely loved! •Her large hand opened and shut on the table.	•Miss Kilman took another cup of tea. •Elizabeth, with her oriental bearing, her inscrutable mystery, sat perfectly upright; no, she did not want anything more. •She looked for her gloves--her white gloves. •They were under the table. •Ah, but she must not go! •Miss Kilman could not let her go! •this youth, that was so beautiful, this girl, whom she genuinely loved! •Her large hand opened and shut on the table.
•But perhaps it was a little flat somehow, Elizabeth felt. •And really she would like to go.	•But perhaps it was a little flat somehow, Elizabeth felt. •And really she would like to go.
•But said Miss Kilman, "I've not quite finished yet."	•But said Miss Kilman, "I've not quite finished yet."
•Of course, then, Elizabeth would wait. •But it was rather stuffy in here.	•Of course, then, Elizabeth would wait. •But it was rather stuffy in here.

unit 1

Part VI.
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unit 2

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unit 3

Health we must have; and health is proportion; so that when a man comes into your room and says he is Christ (a common delusion), and has a message, as they mostly have, and threatens, as they often do, to kill himself, you invoke proportion; order rest in bed; rest in solitude; silence and rest; rest without friends, without books, without messages; six months' rest; until a man who went in weighing seven stone six comes out weighing twelve.
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unit 4

Proportion, divine proportion, Sir William's goddess, was acquired by Sir William walking hospitals, catching salmon, begetting one son in Harley Street by Lady Bradshaw, who caught salmon herself and took photographs scarcely to be distinguished from the work of professionals.
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unit 5

Worshipping proportion, Sir William not only prospered himself but made England prosper, secluded her lunatics, forbade childbirth, penalised despair, made it impossible for the unfit to propagate their views until they, too, shared his sense of proportion--his, if they were men, Lady Bradshaw's if they were women (she embroidered, knitted, spent four nights out of seven at home with her son), so that not only did his colleagues respect him, his subordinates fear him, but the friends and relations of his patients felt for him the keenest gratitude for insisting that these prophetic Christs and Christesses, who prophesied the end of the world, or the advent of God, should drink milk in bed, as Sir William ordered; Sir William with his thirty years' experience of these kinds of cases, and his infallible instinct, this is madness, this sense; in fact, his sense of proportion.
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unit 6

But Proportion has a sister, less smiling, more formidable, a Goddess even now engaged--in the heat and sands of India, the mud and swamp of Africa, the purlieus of London, wherever in short the climate or the devil tempts men to fall from the true belief which is her own--is even now engaged in dashing down shrines, smashing idols, and setting up in their place her own stern countenance.
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unit 7

Conversion is her name and she feasts on the wills of the weakly, loving to impress, to impose, adoring her own features stamped on the face of the populace.
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unit 8

At Hyde Park Corner on a tub she stands preaching; shrouds herself in white and walks penitentially disguised as brotherly love through factories and parliaments; offers help, but desires power; smites out of her way roughly the dissentient, or dissatisfied; bestows her blessing on those who, looking upward, catch submissively from her eyes the light of their own.
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unit 9

This lady too (Rezia Warren Smith divined it) had her dwelling in Sir William's heart, though concealed, as she mostly is, under some plausible disguise; some venerable name; love, duty, self sacrifice.
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unit 10

How he would work--how toil to raise funds, propagate reforms, initiate institutions!
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unit 11

But conversion, fastidious Goddess, loves blood better than brick, and feasts most subtly on the human will.
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unit 12

For example, Lady Bradshaw.
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unit 13

Fifteen years ago she had gone under.
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unit 14

It was nothing you could put your finger on; there had been no scene, no snap; only the slow sinking, water-logged, of her will into his.
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unit 15

Sweet was her smile, swift her submission; dinner in Harley Street, numbering eight or nine courses, feeding ten or fifteen guests of the professional classes, was smooth and urbane.
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unit 16

Only as the evening wore on a very slight dulness, or uneasiness perhaps, a nervous twitch, fumble, stumble and confusion indicated, what it was really painful to believe--that the poor lady lied.
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unit 17

Once, long ago, she had caught salmon freely: now, quick to minister to the craving which lit her husband's eye so oilily for dominion, for power, she cramped, squeezed, pared, pruned, drew back, peeped through; so that without knowing precisely what made the evening disagreeable, and caused this pressure on the top of the head (which might well be imputed to the professional conversation, or the fatigue of a great doctor whose life, Lady Bradshaw said, "is not his own but his patients'") disagreeable it was: so that guests, when the clock struck ten, breathed in the air of Harley Street even with rapture; which relief, however, was denied to his patients.
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unit 18

There in the grey room, with the pictures on the wall, and the valuable furniture, under the ground glass skylight, they learnt the extent of their transgressions; huddled up in arm-chairs, they watched him go through, for their benefit, a curious exercise with the arms, which he shot out, brought sharply back to his hip, to prove (if the patient was obstinate) that Sir William was master of his own actions, which the patient was not.
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unit 19

There some weakly broke down; sobbed, submitted; others, inspired by Heaven knows what intemperate madness, called Sir William to his face a damnable humbug; questioned, even more impiously, life itself.
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unit 20

Why live?
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unit 21

they demanded.
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unit 22

Sir William replied that life was good.
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unit 23

Certainly Lady Bradshaw in ostrich feathers hung over the mantelpiece, and as for his income it was quite twelve thousand a year.
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unit 24

But to us, they protested, life has given no such bounty.
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unit 25

He acquiesced.
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unit 26

They lacked a sense of proportion.
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unit 27

And perhaps, after all, there is no God?
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unit 28

He shrugged his shoulders.
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unit 29

In short, this living or not living is an affair of our own?
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unit 30

But there they were mistaken.
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unit 31

Sir William had a friend in Surrey where they taught, what Sir William frankly admitted was a difficult art--a sense of proportion.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 32

There were, moreover, family affection; honour; courage; and a brilliant career.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 33

All of these had in Sir William a resolute champion.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 34

If they failed him, he had to support police and the good of society, which, he remarked very quietly, would take care, down in Surrey, that these unsocial impulses, bred more than anything by the lack of good blood, were held in control.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks ago

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unit 35

And then stole out from her hiding-place and mounted her throne that Goddess whose lust is to override opposition, to stamp indelibly in the sanctuaries of others the image of herself.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks ago

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unit 36

Naked, defenceless, the exhausted, the friendless received the impress of Sir William's will.
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks ago

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unit 37

He swooped; he devoured.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks ago

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unit 38

He shut people up.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks ago

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unit 39

It was this combination of decision and humanity that endeared Sir William so greatly to the relations of his victims.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks ago

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unit 40

But Rezia Warren Smith cried, walking down Harley Street, that she did not like that man.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks ago

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unit 41

Shredding and slicing, dividing and subdividing, the clocks of Harley Street nibbled at the June day, counselled submission, upheld authority, and pointed out in chorus the supreme advantages of a sense of proportion, until the mound of time was so far diminished that a commercial clock, suspended above a shop in Oxford Street, announced, genially and fraternally, as if it were a pleasure to Messrs. Rigby and Lowndes to give the information gratis, that it was half-past one.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks ago

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unit 42

Looking up, it appeared that each letter of their names stood for one of the hours; subconsciously one was grateful to Rigby and Lowndes for giving one time ratified by Greenwich; and this gratitude (so Hugh Whitbread ruminated, dallying there in front of the shop window), naturally took the form later of buying off Rigby and Lowndes socks or shoes.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks ago

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unit 43

So he ruminated.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks ago

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unit 44

It was his habit.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks ago

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unit 45

He did not go deeply.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks ago

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unit 46

He brushed surfaces; the dead languages, the living, life in Constantinople, Paris, Rome; riding, shooting, tennis, it had been once.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks ago

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unit 47

The malicious asserted that he now kept guard at Buckingham Palace, dressed in silk stockings and knee-breeches, over what nobody knew.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 weeks ago

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unit 48

But he did it extremely efficiently.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 49

He had been afloat on the cream of English society for fifty-five years.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 50

He had known Prime Ministers.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 51

His affections were understood to be deep.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 52

And if it were true that he had not taken part in any of the great movements of the time or held important office, one or two humble reforms stood to his credit; an improvement in public shelters was one; the protection of owls in Norfolk another; servant girls had reason to be grateful to him; and his name at the end of letters to the Times, asking for funds, appealing to the public to protect, to preserve, to clear up litter, to abate smoke, and stamp out immorality in parks, commanded respect.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 53

A magnificent figure he cut too, pausing for a moment (as the sound of the half hour died away) to look critically, magisterially, at socks and shoes; impeccable, substantial, as if he beheld the world from a certain eminence, and dressed to match; but realised the obligations which size, wealth, health, entail, and observed punctiliously even when not absolutely necessary, little courtesies, old-fashioned ceremonies which gave a quality to his manner, something to imitate, something to remember him by, for he would never lunch, for example, with Lady Bruton, whom he had known these twenty years, without bringing her in his outstretched hand a bunch of carnations and asking Miss Brush, Lady Bruton's secretary, after her brother in South Africa, which, for some reason, Miss Brush, deficient though she was in every attribute of female charm, so much resented that she said "Thank you, he's doing very well in South Africa," when, for half a dozen years, he had been doing badly in Portsmouth.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 54

Lady Bruton herself preferred Richard Dalloway, who arrived at the next moment.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 55

Indeed they met on the doorstep.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 56

Lady Bruton preferred Richard Dalloway of course.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 57

He was made of much finer material.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 58

But she wouldn't let them run down her poor dear Hugh.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 59

She could never forget his kindness--he had been really remarkably kind--she forgot precisely upon what occasion.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 60

But he had been--remarkably kind.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 61

Anyhow, the difference between one man and another does not amount to much.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 62

She had never seen the sense of cutting people up, as Clarissa Dalloway did--cutting them up and sticking them together again; not at any rate when one was sixty-two.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 63

She took Hugh's carnations with her angular grim smile.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 64

There was nobody else coming, she said.
3 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 65

She had got them there on false pretences, to help her out of a difficulty-- "But let us eat first," she said.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 66

And so there began a soundless and exquisite passing to and fro through swing doors of aproned white-capped maids, handmaidens not of necessity, but adepts in a mystery or grand deception practised by hostesses in Mayfair from one-thirty to two, when, with a wave of the hand, the traffic ceases, and there rises instead this profound illusion in the first place about the food--how it is not paid for; and then that the table spreads itself voluntarily with glass and silver, little mats, saucers of red fruit; films of brown cream mask turbot; in casseroles severed chickens swim; coloured, undomestic, the fire burns; and with the wine and the coffee (not paid for) rise jocund visions before musing eyes; gently speculative eyes; eyes to whom life appears musical, mysterious; eyes now kindled to observe genially the beauty of the red carnations which Lady Bruton (whose movements were always angular) had laid beside her plate, so that Hugh Whitbread, feeling at peace with the entire universe and at the same time completely sure of his standing, said, resting his fork, "Wouldn't they look charming against your lace?"
3 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 67

Miss Brush resented this familiarity intensely.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 68

She thought him an underbred fellow.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 69

She made Lady Bruton laugh.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 70

Lady Bruton raised the carnations, holding them rather stiffly with much the same attitude with which the General held the scroll in the picture behind her; she remained fixed, tranced.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 71

Which was she now, the General's great-grand-daughter?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 72

great-great-grand-daughter?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 73

Richard Dalloway asked himself.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 74

Sir Roderick, Sir Miles, Sir Talbot--that was it.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 75

It was remarkable how in that family the likeness persisted in the women.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 76

She should have been a general of dragoons herself.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 77

And Richard would have served under her, cheerfully; he had the greatest respect for her; he cherished these romantic views about well-set-up old women of pedigree, and would have liked, in his good-humoured way, to bring some young hot-heads of his acquaintance to lunch with her; as if a type like hers could be bred of amiable tea-drinking enthusiasts!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 78

He knew her country.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 79

He knew her people.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 80

There was a vine, still bearing, which either Lovelace or Herrick--she never read a word poetry of herself, but so the story ran--had sat under.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 81

Better wait to put before them the question that bothered her (about making an appeal to the public; if so, in what terms and so on), better wait until they have had their coffee, Lady Bruton thought; and so laid the carnations down beside her plate.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 82

"How's Clarissa?"
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 83

she asked abruptly.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 84

Clarissa always said that Lady Bruton did not like her.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 85

Indeed, Lady Bruton had the reputation of being more interested in politics than people; of talking like a man; of having had a finger in some notorious intrigue of the eighties, which was now beginning to be mentioned in memoirs.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 86

Certainly there was an alcove in her drawing-room, and a table in that alcove, and a photograph upon that table of General Sir Talbot Moore, now deceased, who had written there (one evening in the eighties) in Lady Bruton's presence, with her cognisance, perhaps advice, a telegram ordering the British troops to advance upon an historical occasion.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 87

(She kept the pen and told the story.)
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 88

Thus, when she said in her offhand way "How's Clarissa?"
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 89

husbands had difficulty in persuading their wives and indeed, however devoted, were secretly doubtful themselves, of her interest in women who often got in their husbands' way, prevented them from accepting posts abroad, and had to be taken to the seaside in the middle of the session to recover from influenza.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 90

Nevertheless her inquiry, "How's Clarissa?"
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 91

was known by women infallibly, to be a signal from a well-wisher, from an almost silent companion, whose utterances (half a dozen perhaps in the course of a lifetime) signified recognition of some feminine comradeship which went beneath masculine lunch parties and united Lady Bruton and Mrs. Dalloway, who seldom met, and appeared when they did meet indifferent and even hostile, in a singular bond.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 92

"I met Clarissa in the Park this morning," said Hugh Whitbread, diving into the casserole, anxious to pay himself this little tribute, for he had only to come to London and he met everybody at once; but greedy, one of the greediest men she had ever known, Milly Brush thought, who observed men with unflinching rectitude, and was capable of everlasting devotion, to her own sex in particular, being knobbed, scraped, angular, and entirely without feminine charm.
3 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 93

"D'you know who's in town?"
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 94

said Lady Bruton suddenly bethinking her.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 95

"Our old friend, Peter Walsh."
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 96

They all smiled.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 97

Peter Walsh!
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 98

And Mr. Dalloway was genuinely glad, Milly Brush thought; and Mr. Whitbread thought only of his chicken.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 99

Peter Walsh!
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 100

All three, Lady Bruton, Hugh Whitbread, and Richard Dalloway, remembered the same thing--how passionately Peter had been in love; been rejected; gone to India; come a cropper; made a mess of things; and Richard Dalloway had a very great liking for the dear old fellow too.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 101

Milly Brush saw that; saw a depth in the brown of his eyes; saw him hesitate; consider; which interested her, as Mr. Dalloway always interested her, for what was he thinking, she wondered, about Peter Walsh?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 102

That Peter Walsh had been in love with Clarissa; that he would go back directly after lunch and find Clarissa; that he would tell her, in so many words, that he loved her.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 103

Yes, he would say that.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 104

Milly Brush once might almost have fallen in love with these silences; and Mr. Dalloway was always so dependable; such a gentleman too.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 105

Now, being forty, Lady Bruton had only to nod, or turn her head a little abruptly, and Milly Brush took the signal, however deeply she might be sunk in these reflections of a detached spirit, of an uncorrupted soul whom life could not bamboozle, because life had not offered her a trinket of the slightest value; not a curl, smile, lip, cheek, nose; nothing whatever; Lady Bruton had only to nod, and Perkins was instructed to quicken the coffee.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 106

"Yes; Peter Walsh has come back," said Lady Bruton.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 107

It was vaguely flattering to them all.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 108

He had come back, battered, unsuccessful, to their secure shores.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 109

But to help him, they reflected, was impossible; there was some flaw in his character.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 110

Hugh Whitbread said one might of course mention his name to So-and-so.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 111

He wrinkled lugubriously, consequentially, at the thought of the letters he would write to the heads of Government offices about "my old friend, Peter Walsh," and so on.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 112

But it wouldn't lead to anything--not to anything permanent, because of his character.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 113

"In trouble with some woman," said Lady Bruton.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 114

They had all guessed that that was at the bottom of it.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 115

"However," said Lady Bruton, anxious to leave the subject, "we shall hear the whole story from Peter himself."
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 116

(The coffee was very slow in coming.)
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 117

"The address?"
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 118

murmured Hugh Whitbread; and there was at once a ripple in the grey tide of service which washed round Lady Bruton day in, day out, collecting, intercepting, enveloping her in a fine tissue which broke concussions, mitigated interruptions, and spread round the house in Brook Street a fine net where things lodged and were picked out accurately, instantly, by grey-haired Perkins, who had been with Lady Bruton these thirty years and now wrote down the address; handed it to Mr. Whitbread, who took out his pocket-book, raised his eyebrows, and slipping it in among documents of the highest importance, said that he would get Evelyn to ask him to lunch.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 119

(They were waiting to bring the coffee until Mr. Whitbread had finished.)
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 120

Hugh was very slow, Lady Bruton thought.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 121

He was getting fat, she noticed.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 122

Richard always kept himself in the pink of condition.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 123

She was getting impatient; the whole of her being was setting positively, undeniably, domineeringly brushing aside all this unnecessary trifling (Peter Walsh and his affairs) upon that subject which engaged her attention, and not merely her attention, but that fibre which was the ramrod of her soul, that essential part of her without which Millicent Bruton would not have been Millicent Bruton; that project for emigrating young people of both sexes born of respectable parents and setting them up with a fair prospect of doing well in Canada.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 124

She exaggerated.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 125

She had perhaps lost her sense of proportion.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 126

Emigration was not to others the obvious remedy, the sublime conception.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 127

It was not to them (not to Hugh, or Richard, or even to devoted Miss Brush) the liberator of the pent egotism, which a strong martial woman, well nourished, well descended, of direct impulses, downright feelings, and little introspective power (broad and simple--why could not every one be broad and simple?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 128

she asked) feels rise within her, once youth is past, and must eject upon some object--it may be Emigration, it may be Emancipation; but whatever it be, this object round which the essence of her soul is daily secreted, becomes inevitably prismatic, lustrous, half looking-glass, half precious stone; now carefully hidden in case people should sneer at it; now proudly displayed.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 129

Emigration had become, in short, largely Lady Bruton.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 130

But she had to write.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 131

And one letter to the Times, she used to say to Miss Brush, cost her more than to organise an expedition to South Africa (which she had done in the war).
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 132

After a morning's battle beginning, tearing up, beginning again, she used to feel the futility of her own womanhood as she felt it on no other occasion, and would turn gratefully to the thought of Hugh Whitbread who possessed--no one could doubt it--the art of writing letters to the Times.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 133

A being so differently constituted from herself, with such a command of language; able to put things as editors like them put; had passions which one could not call simply greed.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 134

Lady Bruton often suspended judgement upon men in deference to the mysterious accord in which they, but no woman, stood to the laws of the universe; knew how to put things; knew what was said; so that if Richard advised her, and Hugh wrote for her, she was sure of being somehow right.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 135

So she let Hugh eat his soufflé; asked after poor Evelyn; waited until they were smoking, and then said, "Milly, would you fetch the papers?"
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 136

And Miss Brush went out, came back; laid papers on the table; and Hugh produced his fountain pen; his silver fountain pen, which had done twenty years' service, he said, unscrewing the cap.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 137

It was still in perfect order; he had shown it to the makers; there was no reason, they said, why it should ever wear out; which was somehow to Hugh's credit, and to the credit of the sentiments which his pen expressed (so Richard Dalloway felt) as Hugh began carefully writing capital letters with rings round them in the margin, and thus marvellously reduced Lady Bruton's tangles to sense, to grammar such as the editor of the Times, Lady Bruton felt, watching the marvellous transformation, must respect.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 138

Hugh was slow.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 139

Hugh was pertinacious.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 140

Richard said one must take risks.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 141

Hugh proposed modifications in deference to people's feelings, which, he said rather tartly when Richard laughed, "had to be considered," and read out "how, therefore, we are of opinion that the times are ripe .
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 142

.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 143

.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 144

the superfluous youth of our ever-increasing population .
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 145

.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 146

.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 147

what we owe to the dead .
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 148

.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 149

."
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 150

which Richard thought all stuffing and bunkum, but no harm in it, of course, and Hugh went on drafting sentiments in alphabetical order of the highest nobility, brushing the cigar ash from his waistcoat, and summing up now and then the progress they had made until, finally, he read out the draft of a letter which Lady Bruton felt certain was a masterpiece.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 151

Could her own meaning sound like that?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 152

Hugh could not guarantee that the editor would put it in; but he would be meeting somebody at luncheon.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 153

Whereupon Lady Bruton, who seldom did a graceful thing, stuffed all Hugh's carnations into the front of her dress, and flinging her hands out called him "My Prime Minister!"
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 154

What she would have done without them both she did not know.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 155

They rose.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 156

And Richard Dalloway strolled off as usual to have a look at the General's portrait, because he meant, whenever he had a moment of leisure, to write a history of Lady Bruton's family.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 157

And Millicent Bruton was very proud of her family.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 158

But they could wait, they could wait, she said, looking at the picture; meaning that her family, of military men, administrators, admirals, had been men of action, who had done their duty; and Richard's first duty was to his country, but it was a fine face, she said; and all the papers were ready for Richard down at Aldmixton whenever the time came; the Labour Government she meant.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 159

"Ah, the news from India!"
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 160

she cried.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 161

And then, as they stood in the hall taking yellow gloves from the bowl on the malachite table and Hugh was offering Miss Brush with quite unnecessary courtesy some discarded ticket or other compliment, which she loathed from the depths of her heart and blushed brick red, Richard turned to Lady Bruton, with his hat in his hand, and said, "We shall see you at our party to-night?"
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 162

whereupon Lady Bruton resumed the magnificence which letter-writing had shattered.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 weeks ago

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unit 163

She might come; or she might not come.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 164

Clarissa had wonderful energy.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 165

Parties terrified Lady Bruton.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 166

But then, she was getting old.
3 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 167

So she intimated, standing at her doorway; handsome; very erect; while her chow stretched behind her, and Miss Brush disappeared into the background with her hands full of papers.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 168

And Lady Bruton went ponderously, majestically, up to her room, lay, one arm extended, on the sofa.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 169

She sighed, she snored, not that she was asleep, only drowsy and heavy, drowsy and heavy, like a field of clover in the sunshine this hot June day, with the bees going round and about and the yellow butterflies.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 170

Always she went back to those fields down in Devonshire, where she had jumped the brooks on Patty, her pony, with Mortimer and Tom, her brothers.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 171

And there were the dogs; there were the rats; there were her father and mother on the lawn under the trees, with the tea-things out, and the beds of dahlias, the hollyhocks, the pampas grass; and they, little wretches, always up to some mischief!
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 172

stealing back through the shrubbery, so as not to be seen, all bedraggled from some roguery.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 173

What old nurse used to say about her frocks!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 174

Ah dear, she remembered--it was Wednesday in Brook Street.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 175

Those kind good fellows, Richard Dalloway, Hugh Whitbread, had gone this hot day through the streets whose growl came up to her lying on the sofa.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 176

Power was hers, position, income.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 6 days ago

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unit 177

She had lived in the forefront of her time.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 178

She had had good friends; known the ablest men of her day.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 179

Murmuring London flowed up to her, and her hand, lying on the sofa back, curled upon some imaginary baton such as her grandfathers might have held, holding which she seemed, drowsy and heavy, to be commanding battalions marching to Canada, and those good fellows walking across London, that territory of theirs, that little bit of carpet, Mayfair.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 180

And they went further and further from her, being attached to her by a thin thread (since they had lunched with her) which would stretch and stretch, get thinner and thinner as they walked across London; as if one's friends were attached to one's body, after lunching with them, by a thin thread, which (as she dozed there) became hazy with the sound of bells, striking the hour or ringing to service, as a single spider's thread is blotted with rain-drops, and, burdened, sags down.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 181

So she slept.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 182

And Richard Dalloway and Hugh Whitbread hesitated at the corner of Conduit Street at the very moment that Millicent Bruton, lying on the sofa, let the thread snap; snored.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 183

Contrary winds buffeted at the street corner.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 184

They looked in at a shop window; they did not wish to buy or to talk but to part, only with contrary winds buffeting the street corner, with some sort of lapse in the tides of the body, two forces meeting in a swirl, morning and afternoon, they paused.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 185

Some newspaper placard went up in the air, gallantly, like a kite at first, then paused, swooped, fluttered; and a lady's veil hung.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 5 days ago

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unit 186

Yellow awnings trembled.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 187

The speed of the morning traffic slackened, and single carts rattled carelessly down half-empty streets.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 188

In Norfolk, of which Richard Dalloway was half thinking, a soft warm wind blew back the petals; confused the waters; ruffled the flowering grasses.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 189

Haymakers, who had pitched beneath hedges to sleep away the morning toil, parted curtains of green blades; moved trembling globes of cow parsley to see the sky; the blue, the steadfast, the blazing summer sky.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 190

Aware that he was looking at a silver two-handled Jacobean mug, and that Hugh Whitbread admired condescendingly with airs of connoisseurship a Spanish necklace which he thought of asking the price of in case Evelyn might like it--still Richard was torpid; could not think or move.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 191

Life had thrown up this wreckage; shop windows full of coloured paste, and one stood stark with the lethargy of the old, stiff with the rigidity of the old, looking in.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 192

Evelyn Whitbread might like to buy this Spanish necklace--so she might.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 193

Yawn he must.
2 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 194

Hugh was going into the shop.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 195

"Right you are!"
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 196

said Richard, following.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 4 days ago

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unit 197

Goodness knows he didn't want to go buying necklaces with Hugh.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 198

But there are tides in the body.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 199

Morning meets afternoon.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 200

Borne like a frail shallop on deep, deep floods, Lady Bruton's great-grandfather and his memoir and his campaigns in North America were whelmed and sunk.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 201

And Millicent Bruton too.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 202

She went under.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 203

Richard didn't care a straw what became of Emigration; about that letter, whether the editor put it in or not.
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 204

The necklace hung stretched between Hugh's admirable fingers.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 205

Let him give it to a girl, if he must buy jewels--any girl, any girl in the street.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 206

For the worthlessness of this life did strike Richard pretty forcibly--buying necklaces for Evelyn.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 207

If he'd had a boy he'd have said, Work, work.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 208

But he had his Elizabeth; he adored his Elizabeth.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 209

"I should like to see Mr. Dubonnet," said Hugh in his curt worldly way.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 210

It appeared that this Dubonnet had the measurements of Mrs. Whitbread's neck, or, more strangely still, knew her views upon Spanish jewellery and the extent of her possessions in that line (which Hugh could not remember).
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 3 days ago

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unit 211

All of which seemed to Richard Dalloway awfully odd.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 212

For he never gave Clarissa presents, except a bracelet two or three years ago, which had not been a success.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 213

She never wore it.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 214

It pained him to remember that she never wore it.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 215

And as a single spider's thread after wavering here and there attaches itself to the point of a leaf, so Richard's mind, recovering from its lethargy, set now on his wife, Clarissa, whom Peter Walsh had loved so passionately; and Richard had had a sudden vision of her there at luncheon; of himself and Clarissa; of their life together; and he drew the tray of old jewels towards him, and taking up first this brooch then that ring, "How much is that?"
3 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 216

he asked, but doubted his own taste.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 217

He wanted to open the drawing-room door and come in holding out something; a present for Clarissa.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 218

Only what?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 219

But Hugh was on his legs again.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 220

He was unspeakably pompous.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 221

Really, after dealing here for thirty-five years he was not going to be put off by a mere boy who did not know his business.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 222

For Dubonnet, it seemed, was out, and Hugh would not buy anything until Mr. Dubonnet chose to be in; at which the youth flushed and bowed his correct little bow.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 223

It was all perfectly correct.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 224

And yet Richard couldn't have said that to save his life!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 225

Why these people stood that damned insolence he could not conceive.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 226

Hugh was becoming an intolerable ass.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 227

Richard Dalloway could not stand more than an hour of his society.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 2 days ago

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unit 228

And, flicking his bowler hat by way of farewell, Richard turned at the corner of Conduit Street eager, yes, very eager, to travel that spider's thread of attachment between himself and Clarissa; he would go straight to her, in Westminster.
3 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 6 days ago

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unit 229

But he wanted to come in holding something.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 230

Flowers?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 231

Yes, flowers, since he did not trust his taste in gold; any number of flowers, roses, orchids, to celebrate what was, reckoning things as you will, an event; this feeling about her when they spoke of Peter Walsh at luncheon; and they never spoke of it; not for years had they spoken of it; which, he thought, grasping his red and white roses together (a vast bunch in tissue paper), is the greatest mistake in the world.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 232

The time comes when it can't be said; one's too shy to say it, he thought, pocketing his sixpence or two of change, setting off with his great bunch held against his body to Westminster to say straight out in so many words (whatever she might think of him), holding out his flowers, "I love you."
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 233

Why not?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 234

Really it was a miracle thinking of the war, and thousands of poor chaps, with all their lives before them, shovelled together, already half forgotten; it was a miracle.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 235

Here he was walking across London to say to Clarissa in so many words that he loved her.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks ago

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unit 236

Which one never does say, he thought.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 237

Partly one's lazy; partly one's shy.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks, 1 day ago

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unit 238

And Clarissa--it was difficult to think of her; except in starts, as at luncheon, when he saw her quite distinctly; their whole life.
3 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks ago

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unit 239

He stopped at the crossing; and repeated--being simple by nature, and undebauched, because he had tramped, and shot; being pertinacious and dogged, having championed the down-trodden and followed his instincts in the House of Commons; being preserved in his simplicity yet at the same time grown rather speechless, rather stiff--he repeated that it was a miracle that he should have married Clarissa; a miracle--his life had been a miracle, he thought; hesitating to cross.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks ago

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unit 240

But it did make his blood boil to see little creatures of five or six crossing Piccadilly alone.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 6 days ago

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unit 241

The police ought to have stopped the traffic at once.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks ago

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unit 242

He had no illusions about the London police.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks ago

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unit 243

Indeed, he was collecting evidence of their malpractices; and those costermongers, not allowed to stand their barrows in the streets; and prostitutes, good Lord, the fault wasn't in them, nor in young men either, but in our detestable social system and so forth; all of which he considered, could be seen considering, grey, dogged, dapper, clean, as he walked across the Park to tell his wife that he loved her.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks ago

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unit 244

For he would say it in so many words, when he came into the room.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks ago

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unit 245

Because it is a thousand pities never to say what one feels, he thought, crossing the Green Park and observing with pleasure how in the shade of the trees whole families, poor families, were sprawling; children kicking up their legs; sucking milk; paper bags thrown about, which could easily be picked up (if people objected) by one of those fat gentlemen in livery; for he was of opinion that every park, and every square, during the summer months should be open to children (the grass of the park flushed and faded, lighting up the poor mothers of Westminster and their crawling babies, as if a yellow lamp were moved beneath).
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks ago

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unit 246

But what could be done for female vagrants like that poor creature, stretched on her elbow (as if she had flung herself on the earth, rid of all ties, to observe curiously, to speculate boldly, to consider the whys and the wherefores, impudent, loose-lipped, humorous), he did not know.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks ago

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unit 247

Bearing his flowers like a weapon, Richard Dalloway approached her; intent he passed her; still there was time for a spark between them--she laughed at the sight of him, he smiled good-humouredly, considering the problem of the female vagrant; not that they would ever speak.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks ago

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unit 248

But he would tell Clarissa that he loved her, in so many words.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks ago

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unit 249

He had, once upon a time, been jealous of Peter Walsh; jealous of him and Clarissa.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks ago

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unit 250

But she had often said to him that she had been right not to marry Peter Walsh; which, knowing Clarissa, was obviously true; she wanted support.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks ago

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unit 251

Not that she was weak; but she wanted support.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 weeks ago

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unit 252

As for Buckingham Palace (like an old prima donna facing the audience all in white) you can't deny it a certain dignity, he considered, nor despise what does, after all, stand to millions of people (a little crowd was waiting at the gate to see the King drive out) for a symbol, absurd though it is; a child with a box of bricks could have done better, he thought; looking at the memorial to Queen Victoria (whom he could remember in her horn spectacles driving through Kensington), its white mound, its billowing motherliness; but he liked being ruled by the descendant of Horsa; he liked continuity; and the sense of handing on the traditions of the past.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 6 days ago

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unit 253

It was a great age in which to have lived.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 6 days ago

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unit 254

Indeed, his own life was a miracle; let him make no mistake about it; here he was, in the prime of life, walking to his house in Westminster to tell Clarissa that he loved her.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 6 days ago

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unit 255

Happiness is this he thought.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 6 days ago

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unit 256

It is this, he said, as he entered Dean's Yard.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 6 days ago

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unit 257

Big Ben was beginning to strike, first the warning, musical; then the hour, irrevocable.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 6 days ago

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unit 258

Lunch parties waste the entire afternoon, he thought, approaching his door.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 6 days ago

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unit 259

The sound of Big Ben flooded Clarissa's drawing-room, where she sat, ever so annoyed, at her writing-table; worried; annoyed.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 6 days ago

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unit 260

It was perfectly true that she had not asked Ellie Henderson to her party; but she had done it on purpose.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 6 days ago

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unit 261

Now Mrs. Marsham wrote "she had told Ellie Henderson she would ask Clarissa--Ellie so much wanted to come."
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 6 days ago

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unit 262

But why should she invite all the dull women in London to her parties?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 6 days ago

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unit 263

Why should Mrs. Marsham interfere?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 264

And there was Elizabeth closeted all this time with Doris Kilman.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 265

Anything more nauseating she could not conceive.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 266

Prayer at this hour with that woman.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 267

And the sound of the bell flooded the room with its melancholy wave; which receded, and gathered itself together to fall once more, when she heard, distractingly, something fumbling, something scratching at the door.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 268

Who at this hour?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 269

Three, good Heavens!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 270

Three already!
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 271

For with overpowering directness and dignity the clock struck three; and she heard nothing else; but the door handle slipped round and in came Richard!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 272

What a surprise!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 273

In came Richard, holding out flowers.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 274

She had failed him, once at Constantinople; and Lady Bruton, whose lunch parties were said to be extraordinarily amusing, had not asked her.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 275

He was holding out flowers--roses, red and white roses.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 276

(But he could not bring himself to say he loved her; not in so many words.)
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 277

But how lovely, she said, taking his flowers.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 278

She understood; she understood without his speaking; his Clarissa.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 279

She put them in vases on the mantelpiece.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 280

How lovely they looked!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 281

she said.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 282

And was it amusing, she asked?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 283

Had Lady Bruton asked after her?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 284

Peter Walsh was back.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 285

Mrs. Marsham had written.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 286

Must she ask Ellie Henderson?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 287

That woman Kilman was upstairs.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 288

"But let us sit down for five minutes," said Richard.
3 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 289

It all looked so empty.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 290

All the chairs were against the wall.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 291

What had they been doing?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 292

Oh, it was for the party; no, he had not forgotten, the party.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 293

Peter Walsh was back.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 294

Oh yes; she had had him.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 295

And he was going to get a divorce; and he was in love with some woman out there.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 296

And he hadn't changed in the slightest.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 297

There she was, mending her dress.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 298

.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 299

.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 300

.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 5 days ago

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unit 301

"Thinking of Bourton," she said.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 302

"Hugh was at lunch," said Richard.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 303

She had met him too!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 304

Well, he was getting absolutely intolerable.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 305

Buying Evelyn necklaces; fatter than ever; an intolerable ass.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 306

"And it came over me 'I might have married you,'" she said, thinking of Peter sitting there in his little bow-tie; with that knife, opening it, shutting it.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 307

"Just as he always was, you know."
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 308

They were talking about him at lunch, said Richard.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 309

(But he could not tell her he loved her.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 310

He held her hand.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 311

Happiness is this, he thought.)
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 312

They had been writing a letter to the Times for Millicent Bruton.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 313

That was about all Hugh was fit for.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 314

"And our dear Miss Kilman?"
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 315

he asked.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 4 days ago

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unit 316

Clarissa thought the roses absolutely lovely; first bunched together; now of their own accord starting apart.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 317

"Kilman arrives just as we've done lunch," she said.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 318

"Elizabeth turns pink.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 319

They shut themselves up.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 320

I suppose they're praying."
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 321

Lord!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 322

He didn't like it; but these things pass over if you let them.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 323

"In a mackintosh with an umbrella," said Clarissa.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 324

He had not said "I love you"; but he held her hand.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 325

Happiness is this, is this, he thought.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 326

"But why should I ask all the dull women in London to my parties?"
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 327

said Clarissa.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 328

And if Mrs. Marsham gave a party, did she invite her guests?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 329

"Poor Ellie Henderson," said Richard--it was a very odd thing how much Clarissa minded about her parties, he thought.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 330

But Richard had no notion of the look of a room.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago

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unit 331

However--what was he going to say?
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 2 days ago

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unit 332

If she worried about these parties he would not let her give them.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 2 days ago

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unit 333

Did she wish she had married Peter?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 334

But he must go.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 335

He must be off, he said, getting up.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 336

But he stood for a moment as if he were about to say something; and she wondered what?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 337

Why?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 338

There were the roses.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 339

"Some Committee?"
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 340

she asked, as he opened the door.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 341

"Armenians," he said; or perhaps it was "Albanians."
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 342

And there is a dignity in people; a solitude; even between husband and wife a gulf; and that one must respect, thought Clarissa, watching him open the door; for one would not part with it oneself, or take it, against his will, from one's husband, without losing one's independence, one's self-respect--something, after all, priceless.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 343

He returned with a pillow and a quilt.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 344

"An hour's complete rest after luncheon," he said.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 345

And he went.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 346

How like him!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 347

He would go on saying "An hour's complete rest after luncheon" to the end of time, because a doctor had ordered it once.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 348

It was like him to take what doctors said literally; part of his adorable, divine simplicity, which no one had to the same extent; which made him go and do the thing while she and Peter frittered their time away bickering.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 349

He was already halfway to the House of Commons, to his Armenians, his Albanians, having settled her on the sofa, looking at his roses.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 350

And people would say, "Clarissa Dalloway is spoilt."
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 351

She cared much more for her roses than for the Armenians.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 352

Hunted out of existence, maimed, frozen, the victims of cruelty and injustice (she had heard Richard say so over and over again)--no, she could feel nothing for the Albanians, or was it the Armenians?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 353

but she loved her roses (didn't that help the Armenians?)
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 354

--the only flowers she could bear to see cut.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 355

But Richard was already at the House of Commons; at his Committee, having settled all her difficulties.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 356

But no; alas, that was not true.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 357

He did not see the reasons against asking Ellie Henderson.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 358

She would do it, of course, as he wished it.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago

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unit 359

Since he had brought the pillows, she would lie down.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago

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unit 360

.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 361

.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago

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unit 362

.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago

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unit 363

But--but--why did she suddenly feel, for no reason that she could discover, desperately unhappy?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago

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unit 364

As a person who has dropped some grain of pearl or diamond into the grass and parts the tall blades very carefully, this way and that, and searches here and there vainly, and at last spies it there at the roots, so she went through one thing and another; no, it was not Sally Seton saying that Richard would never be in the Cabinet because he had a second-class brain (it came back to her); no, she did not mind that; nor was it to do with Elizabeth either and Doris Kilman; those were facts.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 365

It was a feeling, some unpleasant feeling, earlier in the day perhaps; something that Peter had said, combined with some depression of her own, in her bedroom, taking off her hat; and what Richard had said had added to it, but what had he said?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago

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unit 366

There were his roses.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago

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unit 367

Her parties!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago

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unit 368

That was it!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago

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unit 369

Her parties!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago

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unit 370

Both of them criticised her very unfairly, laughed at her very unjustly, for her parties.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago

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unit 371

That was it!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago

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unit 372

That was it!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago

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unit 373

Well, how was she going to defend herself?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago

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unit 374

Now that she knew what it was, she felt perfectly happy.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago

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unit 375

They thought, or Peter at any rate thought, that she enjoyed imposing herself; liked to have famous people about her; great names; was simply a snob in short.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago

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unit 376

Well, Peter might think so.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 13 hours ago

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unit 377

Richard merely thought it foolish of her to like excitement when she knew it was bad for her heart.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 3 hours ago

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unit 378

It was childish, he thought.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 3 hours ago

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unit 379

And both were quite wrong.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 13 hours ago

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unit 380

What she liked was simply life.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 13 hours ago

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unit 381

"That's what I do it for," she said, speaking aloud, to life.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 13 hours ago

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unit 382

Since she was lying on the sofa, cloistered, exempt, the presence of this thing which she felt to be so obvious became physically existent; with robes of sound from the street, sunny, with hot breath, whispering, blowing out the blinds.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 383

But suppose Peter said to her, "Yes, yes, but your parties--what's the sense of your parties?"
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 384

all she could say was (and nobody could be expected to understand): They're an offering; which sounded horribly vague.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 385

But who was Peter to make out that life was all plain sailing?--Peter always in love, always in love with the wrong woman?
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 3 hours ago

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unit 386

What's your love?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 13 hours ago

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unit 387

she might say to him.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 13 hours ago

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unit 388

And she knew his answer; how it is the most important thing in the world and no woman possibly understood it.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 13 hours ago

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unit 389

Very well.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 13 hours ago

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unit 390

But could any man understand what she meant either?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 13 hours ago

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unit 391

about life?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 13 hours ago

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unit 392

She could not imagine Peter or Richard taking the trouble to give a party for no reason whatever.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 13 hours ago

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unit 393

But to go deeper, beneath what people said (and these judgements, how superficial, how fragmentary they are!)
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 394

in her own mind now, what did it mean to her, this thing she called life?
3 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 2 hours ago

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unit 395

Oh, it was very queer.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 17 hours ago

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unit 396

Here was So-and-so in South Kensington; some one up in Bayswater; and somebody else, say, in Mayfair.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 17 hours ago

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unit 397

And she felt quite continuously a sense of their existence; and she felt what a waste; and she felt what a pity; and she felt if only they could be brought together; so she did it.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 17 hours ago

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unit 398

And it was an offering; to combine, to create; but to whom?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 17 hours ago

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unit 399

An offering for the sake of offering, perhaps.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 17 hours ago

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unit 400

Anyhow, it was her gift.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 17 hours ago

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unit 401

Nothing else had she of the slightest importance; could not think, write, even play the piano.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 17 hours ago

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unit 402

She muddled Armenians and Turks; loved success; hated discomfort; must be liked; talked oceans of nonsense: and to this day, ask her what the Equator was, and she did not know.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 403

All the same, that one day should follow another; Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday; that one should wake up in the morning; see the sky; walk in the park; meet Hugh Whitbread; then suddenly in came Peter; then these roses; it was enough.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 404

After that, how unbelievable death was!--that it must end; and no one in the whole world would know how she had loved it all; how, every instant .
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 405

.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 406

.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 407

The door opened.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 408

Elizabeth knew that her mother was resting.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 409

She came in very quietly.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 410

She stood perfectly still.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 411

Was it that some Mongol had been wrecked on the coast of Norfolk (as Mrs. Hilbery said), had mixed with the Dalloway ladies, perhaps, a hundred years ago?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 412

For the Dalloways, in general, were fair-haired; blue-eyed; Elizabeth, on the contrary, was dark; had Chinese eyes in a pale face; an Oriental mystery; was gentle, considerate, still.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 413

As a child, she had had a perfect sense of humour; but now at seventeen, why, Clarissa could not in the least understand, she had become very serious; like a hyacinth, sheathed in glossy green, with buds just tinted, a hyacinth which has had no sun.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 414

She stood quite still and looked at her mother; but the door was ajar, and outside the door was Miss Kilman, as Clarissa knew; Miss Kilman in her mackintosh, listening to whatever they said.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 1 hour ago

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unit 415

Yes, Miss Kilman stood on the landing, and wore a mackintosh; but had her reasons.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 1 hour ago

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unit 416

First, it was cheap; second, she was over forty; and did not, after all, dress to please.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 17 hours ago

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unit 417

She was poor, moreover; degradingly poor.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 17 hours ago

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unit 418

Otherwise she would not be taking jobs from people like the Dalloways; from rich people, who liked to be kind.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 3 hours ago

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unit 419

Mr. Dalloway, to do him justice, had been kind.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 17 hours ago

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unit 420

But Mrs. Dalloway had not.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 17 hours ago

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unit 421

She had been merely condescending.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 17 hours ago

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unit 422

She came from the most worthless of all classes--the rich, with a smattering of culture.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 17 hours ago

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unit 423

They had expensive things everywhere; pictures, carpets, lots of servants.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 12 hours ago

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unit 424

She considered that she had a perfect right to anything that the Dalloways did for her.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 12 hours ago

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unit 425

She had been cheated.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 12 hours ago

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unit 426

Yes, the word was no exaggeration, for surely a girl has a right to some kind of happiness?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 12 hours ago

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unit 427

And she had never been happy, what with being so clumsy and so poor.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 12 hours ago

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unit 428

And then, just as she might have had a chance at Miss Dolby's school, the war came; and she had never been able to tell lies.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 12 hours ago

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unit 429

Miss Dolby thought she would be happier with people who shared her views about the Germans.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 12 hours ago

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unit 430

She had had to go.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 12 hours ago

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unit 431

It was true that the family was of German origin; spelt the name Kiehlman in the eighteenth century; but her brother had been killed.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 12 hours ago

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unit 432

They turned her out because she would not pretend that the Germans were all villains--when she had German friends, when the only happy days of her life had been spent in Germany!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 12 hours ago

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unit 433

And after all, she could read history.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 4 days, 2 hours ago

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unit 434

She had had to take whatever she could get.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 435

Mr. Dalloway had come across her working for the Friends.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 12 hours ago

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unit 436

He had allowed her (and that was really generous of him) to teach his daughter history.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 1 hour ago

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unit 437

Also she did a little Extension lecturing and so on.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 438

Then Our Lord had come to her (and here she always bowed her head).
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 439

She had seen the light two years and three months ago.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 1 hour ago

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unit 440

Now she did not envy women like Clarissa Dalloway; she pitied them.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 441

She pitied and despised them from the bottom of her heart, as she stood on the soft carpet, looking at the old engraving of a little girl with a muff.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 1 hour ago

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unit 442

With all this luxury going on, what hope was there for a better state of things?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 443

Instead of lying on a sofa--"My mother is resting," Elizabeth had said--she should have been in a factory; behind a counter; Mrs. Dalloway and all the other fine ladies!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 444

Bitter and burning, Miss Kilman had turned into a church two years three months ago.
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 445

She had heard the Rev.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 446

Edward Whittaker preach; the boys sing; had seen the solemn lights descend, and whether it was the music, or the voices (she herself when alone in the evening found comfort in a violin; but the sound was excruciating; she had no ear), the hot and turbulent feelings which boiled and surged in her had been assuaged as she sat there, and she had wept copiously, and gone to call on Mr. Whittaker at his private house in Kensington.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 447

It was the hand of God, he said.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 448

The Lord had shown her the way.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 449

So now, whenever the hot and painful feelings boiled within her, this hatred of Mrs. Dalloway, this grudge against the world, she thought of God.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 450

She thought of Mr. Whittaker.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 9 hours ago

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unit 451

Rage was succeeded by calm.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 10 hours ago

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unit 452

A sweet savour filled her veins, her lips parted, and, standing formidable upon the landing in her mackintosh, she looked with steady and sinister serenity at Mrs. Dalloway, who came out with her daughter.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 3 hours ago

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unit 453

Elizabeth said she had forgotten her gloves.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 454

That was because Miss Kilman and her mother hated each other.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 455

She could not bear to see them together.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 456

She ran upstairs to find her gloves.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 457

But Miss Kilman did not hate Mrs. Dalloway.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 458

Turning her large gooseberry-coloured eyes upon Clarissa, observing her small pink face, her delicate body, her air of freshness and fashion, Miss Kilman felt, Fool!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 459

Simpleton!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 460

You who have known neither sorrow nor pleasure; who have trifled your life away!
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 16 hours ago

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unit 461

And there rose in her an overmastering desire to overcome her; to unmask her.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 16 hours ago

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unit 462

If she could have felled her it would have eased her.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 10 hours ago

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unit 463

But it was not the body; it was the soul and its mockery that she wished to subdue; make feel her mastery.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 10 hours ago

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unit 464

If only she could make her weep; could ruin her; humiliate her; bring her to her knees crying, You are right!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 10 hours ago

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unit 465

But this was God's will, not Miss Kilman's.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 10 hours ago

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unit 466

It was to be a religious victory.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 10 hours ago

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unit 467

So she glared; so she glowered.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 days, 3 hours ago

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unit 468

Clarissa was really shocked.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 12 hours ago

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unit 469

This a Christian--this woman!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 12 hours ago

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unit 470

This woman had taken her daughter from her!
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 1 hour ago

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unit 471

She in touch with invisible presences!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 12 hours ago

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unit 472

Heavy, ugly, commonplace, without kindness or grace, she know the meaning of life!
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 1 hour ago

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unit 473

"You are taking Elizabeth to the Stores?"
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 16 hours ago

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unit 474

Mrs. Dalloway said.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 16 hours ago

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unit 475

Miss Kilman said she was.
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 1 hour ago

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unit 476

They stood there.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 16 hours ago

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unit 477

Miss Kilman was not going to make herself agreeable.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 16 hours ago

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unit 478

She had always earned her living.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 16 hours ago

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unit 479

Her knowledge of modern history was thorough in the extreme.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 16 hours ago

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unit 480

She did out of her meagre income set aside so much for causes she believed in; whereas this woman did nothing, believed nothing; brought up her daughter--but here was Elizabeth, rather out of breath, the beautiful girl.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 12 hours ago

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unit 481

So they were going to the Stores.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 12 hours ago

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unit 482

Odd it was, as Miss Kilman stood there (and stand she did, with the power and taciturnity of some prehistoric monster armoured for primeval warfare), how, second by second, the idea of her diminished, how hatred (which was for ideas, not people) crumbled, how she lost her malignity, her size, became second by second merely Miss Kilman, in a mackintosh, whom Heaven knows Clarissa would have liked to help.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 12 hours ago

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unit 483

At this dwindling of the monster, Clarissa laughed.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 12 hours ago

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unit 484

Saying good-bye, she laughed.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 12 hours ago

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unit 485

Off they went together, Miss Kilman and Elizabeth, downstairs.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 7 hours ago

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unit 486

With a sudden impulse, with a violent anguish, for this woman was taking her daughter from her, Clarissa leant over the bannisters and cried out, "Remember the party!
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 hours ago

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unit 487

Remember our party tonight!"
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 7 hours ago

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unit 488

But Elizabeth had already opened the front door; there was a van passing; she did not answer.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 16 hours ago

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unit 489

Love and religion!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 16 hours ago

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unit 490

thought Clarissa, going back into the drawing-room, tingling all over.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 16 hours ago

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unit 491

How detestable, how detestable they are!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 16 hours ago

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unit 492

For now that the body of Miss Kilman was not before her, it overwhelmed her--the idea.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 16 hours ago

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unit 493

The cruelest things in the world, she thought, seeing them clumsy, hot, domineering, hypocritical, eavesdropping, jealous, infinitely cruel and unscrupulous, dressed in a mackintosh coat, on the landing; love and religion.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 16 hours ago

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unit 494

Had she ever tried to convert any one herself?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 16 hours ago

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unit 495

Did she not wish everybody merely to be themselves?
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 hours ago

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unit 496

And she watched out of the window the old lady opposite climbing upstairs.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 16 hours ago

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unit 497

Let her climb upstairs if she wanted to; let her stop; then let her, as Clarissa had often seen her, gain her bedroom, part her curtains, and disappear again into the background.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 hours ago

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unit 498

Somehow one respected that--that old woman looking out of the window, quite unconscious that she was being watched.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 7 hours ago

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unit 499

There was something solemn in it--but love and religion would destroy that, whatever it was, the privacy of the soul.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 7 hours ago

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unit 500

The odious Kilman would destroy it.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 7 hours ago

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unit 501

Yet it was a sight that made her want to cry.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 7 hours ago

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unit 502

Love destroyed too.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 hours ago

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unit 503

Everything that was fine, everything that was true went.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 hours ago

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unit 504

Take Peter Walsh now.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 hours ago

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unit 505

There was a man, charming, clever, with ideas about everything.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 2 hours ago

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unit 506

If you wanted to know about Pope, say, or Addison, or just to talk nonsense, what people were like, what things meant, Peter knew better than any one.
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unit 507

It was Peter who had helped her; Peter who had lent her books.
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unit 508

But look at the women he loved--vulgar, trivial, commonplace.
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unit 509

Think of Peter in love--he came to see her after all these years, and what did he talk about?
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unit 510

Himself.
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unit 511

Horrible passion!
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unit 512

she thought.
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unit 513

Degrading passion!
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unit 514

she thought, thinking of Kilman and her Elizabeth walking to the Army and Navy Stores.
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unit 515

Big Ben struck the half-hour.
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unit 516

How extraordinary it was, strange, yes, touching, to see the old lady (they had been neighbours ever so many years) move away from the window, as if she were attached to that sound, that string.
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unit 517

Gigantic as it was, it had something to do with her.
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unit 518

Down, down, into the midst of ordinary things the finger fell making the moment solemn.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity an hour ago

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unit 519

She was forced, so Clarissa imagined, by that sound, to move, to go--but where?
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unit 520

Clarissa tried to follow her as she turned and disappeared, and could still just see her white cap moving at the back of the bedroom.
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unit 521

She was still there moving about at the other end of the room.
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unit 522

Why creeds and prayers and mackintoshes?
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unit 523

when, thought Clarissa, that's the miracle, that's the mystery; that old lady, she meant, whom she could see going from chest of drawers to dressing-table.
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unit 524

She could still see her.
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unit 525

And the supreme mystery which Kilman might say she had solved, or Peter might say he had solved, but Clarissa didn't believe either of them had the ghost of an idea of solving, was simply this: here was one room; there another.
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unit 526

Did religion solve that, or love?
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unit 527

Love--but here the other clock, the clock which always struck two minutes after Big Ben, came shuffling in with its lap full of odds and ends, which it dumped down as if Big Ben were all very well with his majesty laying down the law, so solemn, so just, but she must remember all sorts of little things besides--Mrs. Marsham, Ellie Henderson, glasses for ices--all sorts of little things came flooding and lapping and dancing in on the wake of that solemn stroke which lay flat like a bar of gold on the sea.
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unit 528

Mrs. Marsham, Ellie Henderson, glasses for ices.
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unit 529

She must telephone now at once.
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unit 530

Volubly, troublously, the late clock sounded, coming in on the wake of Big Ben, with its lap full of trifles.
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unit 531

Beaten up, broken up by the assault of carriages, the brutality of vans, the eager advance of myriads of angular men, of flaunting women, the domes and spires of offices and hospitals, the last relics of this lap full of odds and ends seemed to break, like the spray of an exhausted wave, upon the body of Miss Kilman standing still in the street for a moment to mutter "It is the flesh."
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unit 532

It was the flesh that she must control.
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unit 533

Clarissa Dalloway had insulted her.
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unit 534

That she expected.
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unit 535

But she had not triumphed; she had not mastered the flesh.
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unit 536

Ugly, clumsy, Clarissa Dalloway had laughed at her for being that; and had revived the fleshly desires, for she minded looking as she did beside Clarissa.
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unit 537

Nor could she talk as she did.
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unit 538

But why wish to resemble her?
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unit 539

Why?
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unit 540

She despised Mrs. Dalloway from the bottom of her heart.
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unit 541

She was not serious.
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unit 542

She was not good.
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unit 543

Her life was a tissue of vanity and deceit.
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unit 544

Yet Doris Kilman had been overcome.
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unit 545

She had, as a matter of fact, very nearly burst into tears when Clarissa Dalloway laughed at her.
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unit 546

"It is the flesh, it is the flesh," she muttered (it being her habit to talk aloud) trying to subdue this turbulent and painful feeling as she walked down Victoria Street.
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unit 547

She prayed to God.
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unit 548

She could not help being ugly; she could not afford to buy pretty clothes.
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unit 549

Clarissa Dalloway had laughed--but she would concentrate her mind upon something else until she had reached the pillar-box.
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unit 550

At any rate she had got Elizabeth.
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unit 551

But she would think of something else; she would think of Russia; until she reached the pillar-box.
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unit 552

How nice it must be, she said, in the country, struggling, as Mr. Whittaker had told her, with that violent grudge against the world which had scorned her, sneered at her, cast her off, beginning with this indignity--the infliction of her unlovable body which people could not bear to see.
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unit 553

Do her hair as she might, her forehead remained like an egg, bald, white.
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unit 554

No clothes suited her.
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unit 555

She might buy anything.
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unit 556

And for a woman, of course, that meant never meeting the opposite sex.
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unit 557

Never would she come first with any one.
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unit 558

Sometimes lately it had seemed to her that, except for Elizabeth, her food was all that she lived for; her comforts; her dinner, her tea; her hot-water bottle at night.
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unit 559

But one must fight; vanquish; have faith in God.
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unit 560

Mr. Whittaker had said she was there for a purpose.
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unit 561

But no one knew the agony!
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unit 562

He said, pointing to the crucifix, that God knew.
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unit 563

But why should she have to suffer when other women, like Clarissa Dalloway, escaped?
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unit 564

Knowledge comes through suffering, said Mr. Whittaker.
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unit 565

She had passed the pillar-box, and Elizabeth had turned into the cool brown tobacco department of the Army and Navy Stores while she was still muttering to herself what Mr. Whittaker had said about knowledge coming through suffering and the flesh.
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unit 566

"The flesh," she muttered.
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unit 567

What department did she want?
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unit 568

Elizabeth interrupted her.
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unit 569

"Petticoats," she said abruptly, and stalked straight on to the lift.
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unit 570

Up they went.
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unit 571

Elizabeth guided her this way and that; guided her in her abstraction as if she had been a great child, an unwieldy battleship.
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unit 572

There were the petticoats, brown, decorous, striped, frivolous, solid, flimsy; and she chose, in her abstraction, portentously, and the girl serving thought her mad.
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unit 573

Elizabeth rather wondered, as they did up the parcel, what Miss Kilman was thinking.
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unit 574

They must have their tea, said Miss Kilman, rousing, collecting herself.
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unit 575

They had their tea.
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unit 576

Elizabeth rather wondered whether Miss Kilman could be hungry.
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unit 577

It was her way of eating, eating with intensity, then looking, again and again, at a plate of sugared cakes on the table next them; then, when a lady and a child sat down and the child took the cake, could Miss Kilman really mind it?
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unit 578

Yes, Miss Kilman did mind it.
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unit 579

She had wanted that cake--the pink one.
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unit 580

The pleasure of eating was almost the only pure pleasure left her, and then to be baffled even in that!
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unit 581

When people are happy, they have a reserve, she had told Elizabeth, upon which to draw, whereas she was like a wheel without a tyre (she was fond of such metaphors), jolted by every pebble, so she would say staying on after the lesson standing by the fire-place with her bag of books, her "satchel," she called it, on a Tuesday morning, after the lesson was over.
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unit 582

And she talked too about the war.
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unit 583

After all, there were people who did not think the English invariably right.
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unit 584

There were books.
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unit 585

There were meetings.
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unit 586

There were other points of view.
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unit 587

Would Elizabeth like to come with her to listen to So-and-so (a most extraordinary looking old man)?
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unit 588

Then Miss Kilman took her to some church in Kensington and they had tea with a clergyman.
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unit 589

She had lent her books.
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unit 590

Law, medicine, politics, all professions are open to women of your generation, said Miss Kilman.
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unit 591

But for herself, her career was absolutely ruined and was it her fault?
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unit 592

Good gracious, said Elizabeth, no.
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unit 593

And her mother would come calling to say that a hamper had come from Bourton and would Miss Kilman like some flowers?
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unit 594

To Miss Kilman she was always very, very nice, but Miss Kilman squashed the flowers all in a bunch, and hadn't any small talk, and what interested Miss Kilman bored her mother, and Miss Kilman and she were terrible together; and Miss Kilman swelled and looked very plain.
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unit 595

But then Miss Kilman was frightfully clever.
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unit 596

Elizabeth had never thought about the poor.
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unit 597

They lived with everything they wanted,--her mother had breakfast in bed every day; Lucy carried it up; and she liked old women because they were Duchesses, and being descended from some Lord.
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unit 598

But Miss Kilman said (one of those Tuesday mornings when the lesson was over), "My grandfather kept an oil and colour shop in Kensington."
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unit 599

Miss Kilman made one feel so small.
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unit 600

Miss Kilman took another cup of tea.
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unit 601

Elizabeth, with her oriental bearing, her inscrutable mystery, sat perfectly upright; no, she did not want anything more.
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unit 602

She looked for her gloves--her white gloves.
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unit 603

They were under the table.
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unit 604

Ah, but she must not go!
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unit 605

Miss Kilman could not let her go!
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unit 606

this youth, that was so beautiful, this girl, whom she genuinely loved!
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unit 607

Her large hand opened and shut on the table.
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unit 608

But perhaps it was a little flat somehow, Elizabeth felt.
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unit 609

And really she would like to go.
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unit 610

But said Miss Kilman, "I've not quite finished yet."
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unit 611

Of course, then, Elizabeth would wait.
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unit 612

But it was rather stuffy in here.
0 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 months, 2 weeks ago

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Ubicación de los capítulos:
Part I: https://translatihan.com/couples/en-es/articles/5219/
Part II: https://translatihan.com/couples/en-es/articles/5220/
Part III: https://translatihan.com/couples/en-es/articles/5221/
Part IV: https://translatihan.com/couples/en-es/articles/5222/
Part V: https://translatihan.com/couples/en-es/articles/5223/
Part VI: https://translatihan.com/couples/en-es/articles/5224/
Part VII: https://translatihan.com/couples/en-es/articles/5225/
Part VIII/VIII: https://translatihan.com/couples/en-es/articles/5226/

by soybeba 6 months, 2 weeks ago

Part VI.

To his patients he gave three-quarters of an hour; and if in this exacting science which has to do with what, after all, we know nothing about--the nervous system, the human brain--a doctor loses his sense of proportion, as a doctor he fails. Health we must have; and health is proportion; so that when a man comes into your room and says he is Christ (a common delusion), and has a message, as they mostly have, and threatens, as they often do, to kill himself, you invoke proportion; order rest in bed; rest in solitude; silence and rest; rest without friends, without books, without messages; six months' rest; until a man who went in weighing seven stone six comes out weighing twelve.
Proportion, divine proportion, Sir William's goddess, was acquired by Sir William walking hospitals, catching salmon, begetting one son in Harley Street by Lady Bradshaw, who caught salmon herself and took photographs scarcely to be distinguished from the work of professionals. Worshipping proportion, Sir William not only prospered himself but made England prosper, secluded her lunatics, forbade childbirth, penalised despair, made it impossible for the unfit to propagate their views until they, too, shared his sense of proportion--his, if they were men, Lady Bradshaw's if they were women (she embroidered, knitted, spent four nights out of seven at home with her son), so that not only did his colleagues respect him, his subordinates fear him, but the friends and relations of his patients felt for him the keenest gratitude for insisting that these prophetic Christs and Christesses, who prophesied the end of the world, or the advent of God, should drink milk in bed, as Sir William ordered; Sir William with his thirty years' experience of these kinds of cases, and his infallible instinct, this is madness, this sense; in fact, his sense of proportion.
But Proportion has a sister, less smiling, more formidable, a Goddess even now engaged--in the heat and sands of India, the mud and swamp of Africa, the purlieus of London, wherever in short the climate or the devil tempts men to fall from the true belief which is her own--is even now engaged in dashing down shrines, smashing idols, and setting up in their place her own stern countenance. Conversion is her name and she feasts on the wills of the weakly, loving to impress, to impose, adoring her own features stamped on the face of the populace. At Hyde Park Corner on a tub she stands preaching; shrouds herself in white and walks penitentially disguised as brotherly love through factories and parliaments; offers help, but desires power; smites out of her way roughly the dissentient, or dissatisfied; bestows her blessing on those who, looking upward, catch submissively from her eyes the light of their own. This lady too (Rezia Warren Smith divined it) had her dwelling in Sir William's heart, though concealed, as she mostly is, under some plausible disguise; some venerable name; love, duty, self sacrifice. How he would work--how toil to raise funds, propagate reforms, initiate institutions! But conversion, fastidious Goddess, loves blood better than brick, and feasts most subtly on the human will. For example, Lady Bradshaw. Fifteen years ago she had gone under. It was nothing you could put your finger on; there had been no scene, no snap; only the slow sinking, water-logged, of her will into his. Sweet was her smile, swift her submission; dinner in Harley Street, numbering eight or nine courses, feeding ten or fifteen guests of the professional classes, was smooth and urbane. Only as the evening wore on a very slight dulness, or uneasiness perhaps, a nervous twitch, fumble, stumble and confusion indicated, what it was really painful to believe--that the poor lady lied. Once, long ago, she had caught salmon freely: now, quick to minister to the craving which lit her husband's eye so oilily for dominion, for power, she cramped, squeezed, pared, pruned, drew back, peeped through; so that without knowing precisely what made the evening disagreeable, and caused this pressure on the top of the head (which might well be imputed to the professional conversation, or the fatigue of a great doctor whose life, Lady Bradshaw said, "is not his own but his patients'") disagreeable it was: so that guests, when the clock struck ten, breathed in the air of Harley Street even with rapture; which relief, however, was denied to his patients.
There in the grey room, with the pictures on the wall, and the valuable furniture, under the ground glass skylight, they learnt the extent of their transgressions; huddled up in arm-chairs, they watched him go through, for their benefit, a curious exercise with the arms, which he shot out, brought sharply back to his hip, to prove (if the patient was obstinate) that Sir William was master of his own actions, which the patient was not. There some weakly broke down; sobbed, submitted; others, inspired by Heaven knows what intemperate madness, called Sir William to his face a damnable humbug; questioned, even more impiously, life itself. Why live? they demanded. Sir William replied that life was good. Certainly Lady Bradshaw in ostrich feathers hung over the mantelpiece, and as for his income it was quite twelve thousand a year. But to us, they protested, life has given no such bounty. He acquiesced. They lacked a sense of proportion. And perhaps, after all, there is no God? He shrugged his shoulders. In short, this living or not living is an affair of our own? But there they were mistaken. Sir William had a friend in Surrey where they taught, what Sir William frankly admitted was a difficult art--a sense of proportion. There were, moreover, family affection; honour; courage; and a brilliant career. All of these had in Sir William a resolute champion. If they failed him, he had to support police and the good of society, which, he remarked very quietly, would take care, down in Surrey, that these unsocial impulses, bred more than anything by the lack of good blood, were held in control. And then stole out from her hiding-place and mounted her throne that Goddess whose lust is to override opposition, to stamp indelibly in the sanctuaries of others the image of herself. Naked, defenceless, the exhausted, the friendless received the impress of Sir William's will. He swooped; he devoured. He shut people up. It was this combination of decision and humanity that endeared Sir William so greatly to the relations of his victims.
But Rezia Warren Smith cried, walking down Harley Street, that she did not like that man.
Shredding and slicing, dividing and subdividing, the clocks of Harley Street nibbled at the June day, counselled submission, upheld authority, and pointed out in chorus the supreme advantages of a sense of proportion, until the mound of time was so far diminished that a commercial clock, suspended above a shop in Oxford Street, announced, genially and fraternally, as if it were a pleasure to Messrs. Rigby and Lowndes to give the information gratis, that it was half-past one.
Looking up, it appeared that each letter of their names stood for one of the hours; subconsciously one was grateful to Rigby and Lowndes for giving one time ratified by Greenwich; and this gratitude (so Hugh Whitbread ruminated, dallying there in front of the shop window), naturally took the form later of buying off Rigby and Lowndes socks or shoes. So he ruminated. It was his habit. He did not go deeply. He brushed surfaces; the dead languages, the living, life in Constantinople, Paris, Rome; riding, shooting, tennis, it had been once. The malicious asserted that he now kept guard at Buckingham Palace, dressed in silk stockings and knee-breeches, over what nobody knew. But he did it extremely efficiently. He had been afloat on the cream of English society for fifty-five years. He had known Prime Ministers. His affections were understood to be deep. And if it were true that he had not taken part in any of the great movements of the time or held important office, one or two humble reforms stood to his credit; an improvement in public shelters was one; the protection of owls in Norfolk another; servant girls had reason to be grateful to him; and his name at the end of letters to the Times, asking for funds, appealing to the public to protect, to preserve, to clear up litter, to abate smoke, and stamp out immorality in parks, commanded respect.
A magnificent figure he cut too, pausing for a moment (as the sound of the half hour died away) to look critically, magisterially, at socks and shoes; impeccable, substantial, as if he beheld the world from a certain eminence, and dressed to match; but realised the obligations which size, wealth, health, entail, and observed punctiliously even when not absolutely necessary, little courtesies, old-fashioned ceremonies which gave a quality to his manner, something to imitate, something to remember him by, for he would never lunch, for example, with Lady Bruton, whom he had known these twenty years, without bringing her in his outstretched hand a bunch of carnations and asking Miss Brush, Lady Bruton's secretary, after her brother in South Africa, which, for some reason, Miss Brush, deficient though she was in every attribute of female charm, so much resented that she said "Thank you, he's doing very well in South Africa," when, for half a dozen years, he had been doing badly in Portsmouth.
Lady Bruton herself preferred Richard Dalloway, who arrived at the next moment. Indeed they met on the doorstep.
Lady Bruton preferred Richard Dalloway of course. He was made of much finer material. But she wouldn't let them run down her poor dear Hugh. She could never forget his kindness--he had been really remarkably kind--she forgot precisely upon what occasion. But he had been--remarkably kind. Anyhow, the difference between one man and another does not amount to much. She had never seen the sense of cutting people up, as Clarissa Dalloway did--cutting them up and sticking them together again; not at any rate when one was sixty-two. She took Hugh's carnations with her angular grim smile. There was nobody else coming, she said. She had got them there on false pretences, to help her out of a difficulty--
"But let us eat first," she said.
And so there began a soundless and exquisite passing to and fro through swing doors of aproned white-capped maids, handmaidens not of necessity, but adepts in a mystery or grand deception practised by hostesses in Mayfair from one-thirty to two, when, with a wave of the hand, the traffic ceases, and there rises instead this profound illusion in the first place about the food--how it is not paid for; and then that the table spreads itself voluntarily with glass and silver, little mats, saucers of red fruit; films of brown cream mask turbot; in casseroles severed chickens swim; coloured, undomestic, the fire burns; and with the wine and the coffee (not paid for) rise jocund visions before musing eyes; gently speculative eyes; eyes to whom life appears musical, mysterious; eyes now kindled to observe genially the beauty of the red carnations which Lady Bruton (whose movements were always angular) had laid beside her plate, so that Hugh Whitbread, feeling at peace with the entire universe and at the same time completely sure of his standing, said, resting his fork,
"Wouldn't they look charming against your lace?"
Miss Brush resented this familiarity intensely. She thought him an underbred fellow. She made Lady Bruton laugh.
Lady Bruton raised the carnations, holding them rather stiffly with much the same attitude with which the General held the scroll in the picture behind her; she remained fixed, tranced. Which was she now, the General's great-grand-daughter? great-great-grand-daughter? Richard Dalloway asked himself. Sir Roderick, Sir Miles, Sir Talbot--that was it. It was remarkable how in that family the likeness persisted in the women. She should have been a general of dragoons herself. And Richard would have served under her, cheerfully; he had the greatest respect for her; he cherished these romantic views about well-set-up old women of pedigree, and would have liked, in his good-humoured way, to bring some young hot-heads of his acquaintance to lunch with her; as if a type like hers could be bred of amiable tea-drinking enthusiasts! He knew her country. He knew her people. There was a vine, still bearing, which either Lovelace or Herrick--she never read a word poetry of herself, but so the story ran--had sat under. Better wait to put before them the question that bothered her (about making an appeal to the public; if so, in what terms and so on), better wait until they have had their coffee, Lady Bruton thought; and so laid the carnations down beside her plate.
"How's Clarissa?" she asked abruptly.
Clarissa always said that Lady Bruton did not like her. Indeed, Lady Bruton had the reputation of being more interested in politics than people; of talking like a man; of having had a finger in some notorious intrigue of the eighties, which was now beginning to be mentioned in memoirs. Certainly there was an alcove in her drawing-room, and a table in that alcove, and a photograph upon that table of General Sir Talbot Moore, now deceased, who had written there (one evening in the eighties) in Lady Bruton's presence, with her cognisance, perhaps advice, a telegram ordering the British troops to advance upon an historical occasion. (She kept the pen and told the story.) Thus, when she said in her offhand way "How's Clarissa?" husbands had difficulty in persuading their wives and indeed, however devoted, were secretly doubtful themselves, of her interest in women who often got in their husbands' way, prevented them from accepting posts abroad, and had to be taken to the seaside in the middle of the session to recover from influenza. Nevertheless her inquiry, "How's Clarissa?" was known by women infallibly, to be a signal from a well-wisher, from an almost silent companion, whose utterances (half a dozen perhaps in the course of a lifetime) signified recognition of some feminine comradeship which went beneath masculine lunch parties and united Lady Bruton and Mrs. Dalloway, who seldom met, and appeared when they did meet indifferent and even hostile, in a singular bond.
"I met Clarissa in the Park this morning," said Hugh Whitbread, diving into the casserole, anxious to pay himself this little tribute, for he had only to come to London and he met everybody at once; but greedy, one of the greediest men she had ever known, Milly Brush thought, who observed men with unflinching rectitude, and was capable of everlasting devotion, to her own sex in particular, being knobbed, scraped, angular, and entirely without feminine charm.
"D'you know who's in town?" said Lady Bruton suddenly bethinking her. "Our old friend, Peter Walsh."
They all smiled. Peter Walsh! And Mr. Dalloway was genuinely glad, Milly Brush thought; and Mr. Whitbread thought only of his chicken.
Peter Walsh! All three, Lady Bruton, Hugh Whitbread, and Richard Dalloway, remembered the same thing--how passionately Peter had been in love; been rejected; gone to India; come a cropper; made a mess of things; and Richard Dalloway had a very great liking for the dear old fellow too. Milly Brush saw that; saw a depth in the brown of his eyes; saw him hesitate; consider; which interested her, as Mr. Dalloway always interested her, for what was he thinking, she wondered, about Peter Walsh?
That Peter Walsh had been in love with Clarissa; that he would go back directly after lunch and find Clarissa; that he would tell her, in so many words, that he loved her. Yes, he would say that.
Milly Brush once might almost have fallen in love with these silences; and Mr. Dalloway was always so dependable; such a gentleman too. Now, being forty, Lady Bruton had only to nod, or turn her head a little abruptly, and Milly Brush took the signal, however deeply she might be sunk in these reflections of a detached spirit, of an uncorrupted soul whom life could not bamboozle, because life had not offered her a trinket of the slightest value; not a curl, smile, lip, cheek, nose; nothing whatever; Lady Bruton had only to nod, and Perkins was instructed to quicken the coffee.
"Yes; Peter Walsh has come back," said Lady Bruton. It was vaguely flattering to them all. He had come back, battered, unsuccessful, to their secure shores. But to help him, they reflected, was impossible; there was some flaw in his character. Hugh Whitbread said one might of course mention his name to So-and-so. He wrinkled lugubriously, consequentially, at the thought of the letters he would write to the heads of Government offices about "my old friend, Peter Walsh," and so on. But it wouldn't lead to anything--not to anything permanent, because of his character.
"In trouble with some woman," said Lady Bruton. They had all guessed that that was at the bottom of it.
"However," said Lady Bruton, anxious to leave the subject, "we shall hear the whole story from Peter himself."
(The coffee was very slow in coming.)
"The address?" murmured Hugh Whitbread; and there was at once a ripple in the grey tide of service which washed round Lady Bruton day in, day out, collecting, intercepting, enveloping her in a fine tissue which broke concussions, mitigated interruptions, and spread round the house in Brook Street a fine net where things lodged and were picked out accurately, instantly, by grey-haired Perkins, who had been with Lady Bruton these thirty years and now wrote down the address; handed it to Mr. Whitbread, who took out his pocket-book, raised his eyebrows, and slipping it in among documents of the highest importance, said that he would get Evelyn to ask him to lunch.
(They were waiting to bring the coffee until Mr. Whitbread had finished.)
Hugh was very slow, Lady Bruton thought. He was getting fat, she noticed. Richard always kept himself in the pink of condition. She was getting impatient; the whole of her being was setting positively, undeniably, domineeringly brushing aside all this unnecessary trifling (Peter Walsh and his affairs) upon that subject which engaged her attention, and not merely her attention, but that fibre which was the ramrod of her soul, that essential part of her without which Millicent Bruton would not have been Millicent Bruton; that project for emigrating young people of both sexes born of respectable parents and setting them up with a fair prospect of doing well in Canada. She exaggerated. She had perhaps lost her sense of proportion. Emigration was not to others the obvious remedy, the sublime conception. It was not to them (not to Hugh, or Richard, or even to devoted Miss Brush) the liberator of the pent egotism, which a strong martial woman, well nourished, well descended, of direct impulses, downright feelings, and little introspective power (broad and simple--why could not every one be broad and simple? she asked) feels rise within her, once youth is past, and must eject upon some object--it may be Emigration, it may be Emancipation; but whatever it be, this object round which the essence of her soul is daily secreted, becomes inevitably prismatic, lustrous, half looking-glass, half precious stone; now carefully hidden in case people should sneer at it; now proudly displayed. Emigration had become, in short, largely Lady Bruton.
But she had to write. And one letter to the Times, she used to say to Miss Brush, cost her more than to organise an expedition to South Africa (which she had done in the war). After a morning's battle beginning, tearing up, beginning again, she used to feel the futility of her own womanhood as she felt it on no other occasion, and would turn gratefully to the thought of Hugh Whitbread who possessed--no one could doubt it--the art of writing letters to the Times.
A being so differently constituted from herself, with such a command of language; able to put things as editors like them put; had passions which one could not call simply greed. Lady Bruton often suspended judgement upon men in deference to the mysterious accord in which they, but no woman, stood to the laws of the universe; knew how to put things; knew what was said; so that if Richard advised her, and Hugh wrote for her, she was sure of being somehow right. So she let Hugh eat his soufflé; asked after poor Evelyn; waited until they were smoking, and then said,
"Milly, would you fetch the papers?"
And Miss Brush went out, came back; laid papers on the table; and Hugh produced his fountain pen; his silver fountain pen, which had done twenty years' service, he said, unscrewing the cap. It was still in perfect order; he had shown it to the makers; there was no reason, they said, why it should ever wear out; which was somehow to Hugh's credit, and to the credit of the sentiments which his pen expressed (so Richard Dalloway felt) as Hugh began carefully writing capital letters with rings round them in the margin, and thus marvellously reduced Lady Bruton's tangles to sense, to grammar such as the editor of the Times, Lady Bruton felt, watching the marvellous transformation, must respect. Hugh was slow. Hugh was pertinacious. Richard said one must take risks. Hugh proposed modifications in deference to people's feelings, which, he said rather tartly when Richard laughed, "had to be considered," and read out "how, therefore, we are of opinion that the times are ripe . . . the superfluous youth of our ever-increasing population . . . what we owe to the dead . . ." which Richard thought all stuffing and bunkum, but no harm in it, of course, and Hugh went on drafting sentiments in alphabetical order of the highest nobility, brushing the cigar ash from his waistcoat, and summing up now and then the progress they had made until, finally, he read out the draft of a letter which Lady Bruton felt certain was a masterpiece. Could her own meaning sound like that?
Hugh could not guarantee that the editor would put it in; but he would be meeting somebody at luncheon.
Whereupon Lady Bruton, who seldom did a graceful thing, stuffed all Hugh's carnations into the front of her dress, and flinging her hands out called him "My Prime Minister!" What she would have done without them both she did not know. They rose. And Richard Dalloway strolled off as usual to have a look at the General's portrait, because he meant, whenever he had a moment of leisure, to write a history of Lady Bruton's family.
And Millicent Bruton was very proud of her family. But they could wait, they could wait, she said, looking at the picture; meaning that her family, of military men, administrators, admirals, had been men of action, who had done their duty; and Richard's first duty was to his country, but it was a fine face, she said; and all the papers were ready for Richard down at Aldmixton whenever the time came; the Labour Government she meant. "Ah, the news from India!" she cried.
And then, as they stood in the hall taking yellow gloves from the bowl on the malachite table and Hugh was offering Miss Brush with quite unnecessary courtesy some discarded ticket or other compliment, which she loathed from the depths of her heart and blushed brick red, Richard turned to Lady Bruton, with his hat in his hand, and said,
"We shall see you at our party to-night?" whereupon Lady Bruton resumed the magnificence which letter-writing had shattered. She might come; or she might not come. Clarissa had wonderful energy. Parties terrified Lady Bruton. But then, she was getting old. So she intimated, standing at her doorway; handsome; very erect; while her chow stretched behind her, and Miss Brush disappeared into the background with her hands full of papers.
And Lady Bruton went ponderously, majestically, up to her room, lay, one arm extended, on the sofa. She sighed, she snored, not that she was asleep, only drowsy and heavy, drowsy and heavy, like a field of clover in the sunshine this hot June day, with the bees going round and about and the yellow butterflies. Always she went back to those fields down in Devonshire, where she had jumped the brooks on Patty, her pony, with Mortimer and Tom, her brothers. And there were the dogs; there were the rats; there were her father and mother on the lawn under the trees, with the tea-things out, and the beds of dahlias, the hollyhocks, the pampas grass; and they, little wretches, always up to some mischief! stealing back through the shrubbery, so as not to be seen, all bedraggled from some roguery. What old nurse used to say about her frocks!
Ah dear, she remembered--it was Wednesday in Brook Street. Those kind good fellows, Richard Dalloway, Hugh Whitbread, had gone this hot day through the streets whose growl came up to her lying on the sofa. Power was hers, position, income. She had lived in the forefront of her time. She had had good friends; known the ablest men of her day. Murmuring London flowed up to her, and her hand, lying on the sofa back, curled upon some imaginary baton such as her grandfathers might have held, holding which she seemed, drowsy and heavy, to be commanding battalions marching to Canada, and those good fellows walking across London, that territory of theirs, that little bit of carpet, Mayfair.
And they went further and further from her, being attached to her by a thin thread (since they had lunched with her) which would stretch and stretch, get thinner and thinner as they walked across London; as if one's friends were attached to one's body, after lunching with them, by a thin thread, which (as she dozed there) became hazy with the sound of bells, striking the hour or ringing to service, as a single spider's thread is blotted with rain-drops, and, burdened, sags down. So she slept.
And Richard Dalloway and Hugh Whitbread hesitated at the corner of Conduit Street at the very moment that Millicent Bruton, lying on the sofa, let the thread snap; snored. Contrary winds buffeted at the street corner. They looked in at a shop window; they did not wish to buy or to talk but to part, only with contrary winds buffeting the street corner, with some sort of lapse in the tides of the body, two forces meeting in a swirl, morning and afternoon, they paused. Some newspaper placard went up in the air, gallantly, like a kite at first, then paused, swooped, fluttered; and a lady's veil hung. Yellow awnings trembled. The speed of the morning traffic slackened, and single carts rattled carelessly down half-empty streets. In Norfolk, of which Richard Dalloway was half thinking, a soft warm wind blew back the petals; confused the waters; ruffled the flowering grasses. Haymakers, who had pitched beneath hedges to sleep away the morning toil, parted curtains of green blades; moved trembling globes of cow parsley to see the sky; the blue, the steadfast, the blazing summer sky.
Aware that he was looking at a silver two-handled Jacobean mug, and that Hugh Whitbread admired condescendingly with airs of connoisseurship a Spanish necklace which he thought of asking the price of in case Evelyn might like it--still Richard was torpid; could not think or move. Life had thrown up this wreckage; shop windows full of coloured paste, and one stood stark with the lethargy of the old, stiff with the rigidity of the old, looking in. Evelyn Whitbread might like to buy this Spanish necklace--so she might. Yawn he must. Hugh was going into the shop.
"Right you are!" said Richard, following.
Goodness knows he didn't want to go buying necklaces with Hugh. But there are tides in the body. Morning meets afternoon. Borne like a frail shallop on deep, deep floods, Lady Bruton's great-grandfather and his memoir and his campaigns in North America were whelmed and sunk. And Millicent Bruton too. She went under. Richard didn't care a straw what became of Emigration; about that letter, whether the editor put it in or not. The necklace hung stretched between Hugh's admirable fingers. Let him give it to a girl, if he must buy jewels--any girl, any girl in the street. For the worthlessness of this life did strike Richard pretty forcibly--buying necklaces for Evelyn. If he'd had a boy he'd have said, Work, work. But he had his Elizabeth; he adored his Elizabeth.
"I should like to see Mr. Dubonnet," said Hugh in his curt worldly way. It appeared that this Dubonnet had the measurements of Mrs. Whitbread's neck, or, more strangely still, knew her views upon Spanish jewellery and the extent of her possessions in that line (which Hugh could not remember). All of which seemed to Richard Dalloway awfully odd. For he never gave Clarissa presents, except a bracelet two or three years ago, which had not been a success. She never wore it. It pained him to remember that she never wore it. And as a single spider's thread after wavering here and there attaches itself to the point of a leaf, so Richard's mind, recovering from its lethargy, set now on his wife, Clarissa, whom Peter Walsh had loved so passionately; and Richard had had a sudden vision of her there at luncheon; of himself and Clarissa; of their life together; and he drew the tray of old jewels towards him, and taking up first this brooch then that ring, "How much is that?" he asked, but doubted his own taste. He wanted to open the drawing-room door and come in holding out something; a present for Clarissa. Only what? But Hugh was on his legs again. He was unspeakably pompous. Really, after dealing here for thirty-five years he was not going to be put off by a mere boy who did not know his business. For Dubonnet, it seemed, was out, and Hugh would not buy anything until Mr. Dubonnet chose to be in; at which the youth flushed and bowed his correct little bow. It was all perfectly correct. And yet Richard couldn't have said that to save his life! Why these people stood that damned insolence he could not conceive. Hugh was becoming an intolerable ass. Richard Dalloway could not stand more than an hour of his society. And, flicking his bowler hat by way of farewell, Richard turned at the corner of Conduit Street eager, yes, very eager, to travel that spider's thread of attachment between himself and Clarissa; he would go straight to her, in Westminster.
But he wanted to come in holding something. Flowers? Yes, flowers, since he did not trust his taste in gold; any number of flowers, roses, orchids, to celebrate what was, reckoning things as you will, an event; this feeling about her when they spoke of Peter Walsh at luncheon; and they never spoke of it; not for years had they spoken of it; which, he thought, grasping his red and white roses together (a vast bunch in tissue paper), is the greatest mistake in the world. The time comes when it can't be said; one's too shy to say it, he thought, pocketing his sixpence or two of change, setting off with his great bunch held against his body to Westminster to say straight out in so many words (whatever she might think of him), holding out his flowers, "I love you." Why not? Really it was a miracle thinking of the war, and thousands of poor chaps, with all their lives before them, shovelled together, already half forgotten; it was a miracle. Here he was walking across London to say to Clarissa in so many words that he loved her. Which one never does say, he thought. Partly one's lazy; partly one's shy. And Clarissa--it was difficult to think of her; except in starts, as at luncheon, when he saw her quite distinctly; their whole life. He stopped at the crossing; and repeated--being simple by nature, and undebauched, because he had tramped, and shot; being pertinacious and dogged, having championed the down-trodden and followed his instincts in the House of Commons; being preserved in his simplicity yet at the same time grown rather speechless, rather stiff--he repeated that it was a miracle that he should have married Clarissa; a miracle--his life had been a miracle, he thought; hesitating to cross. But it did make his blood boil to see little creatures of five or six crossing Piccadilly alone. The police ought to have stopped the traffic at once. He had no illusions about the London police. Indeed, he was collecting evidence of their malpractices; and those costermongers, not allowed to stand their barrows in the streets; and prostitutes, good Lord, the fault wasn't in them, nor in young men either, but in our detestable social system and so forth; all of which he considered, could be seen considering, grey, dogged, dapper, clean, as he walked across the Park to tell his wife that he loved her.
For he would say it in so many words, when he came into the room. Because it is a thousand pities never to say what one feels, he thought, crossing the Green Park and observing with pleasure how in the shade of the trees whole families, poor families, were sprawling; children kicking up their legs; sucking milk; paper bags thrown about, which could easily be picked up (if people objected) by one of those fat gentlemen in livery; for he was of opinion that every park, and every square, during the summer months should be open to children (the grass of the park flushed and faded, lighting up the poor mothers of Westminster and their crawling babies, as if a yellow lamp were moved beneath). But what could be done for female vagrants like that poor creature, stretched on her elbow (as if she had flung herself on the earth, rid of all ties, to observe curiously, to speculate boldly, to consider the whys and the wherefores, impudent, loose-lipped, humorous), he did not know. Bearing his flowers like a weapon, Richard Dalloway approached her; intent he passed her; still there was time for a spark between them--she laughed at the sight of him, he smiled good-humouredly, considering the problem of the female vagrant; not that they would ever speak. But he would tell Clarissa that he loved her, in so many words. He had, once upon a time, been jealous of Peter Walsh; jealous of him and Clarissa. But she had often said to him that she had been right not to marry Peter Walsh; which, knowing Clarissa, was obviously true; she wanted support. Not that she was weak; but she wanted support.
As for Buckingham Palace (like an old prima donna facing the audience all in white) you can't deny it a certain dignity, he considered, nor despise what does, after all, stand to millions of people (a little crowd was waiting at the gate to see the King drive out) for a symbol, absurd though it is; a child with a box of bricks could have done better, he thought; looking at the memorial to Queen Victoria (whom he could remember in her horn spectacles driving through Kensington), its white mound, its billowing motherliness; but he liked being ruled by the descendant of Horsa; he liked continuity; and the sense of handing on the traditions of the past. It was a great age in which to have lived. Indeed, his own life was a miracle; let him make no mistake about it; here he was, in the prime of life, walking to his house in Westminster to tell Clarissa that he loved her. Happiness is this he thought.
It is this, he said, as he entered Dean's Yard. Big Ben was beginning to strike, first the warning, musical; then the hour, irrevocable. Lunch parties waste the entire afternoon, he thought, approaching his door.
The sound of Big Ben flooded Clarissa's drawing-room, where she sat, ever so annoyed, at her writing-table; worried; annoyed. It was perfectly true that she had not asked Ellie Henderson to her party; but she had done it on purpose. Now Mrs. Marsham wrote "she had told Ellie Henderson she would ask Clarissa--Ellie so much wanted to come."
But why should she invite all the dull women in London to her parties? Why should Mrs. Marsham interfere? And there was Elizabeth closeted all this time with Doris Kilman. Anything more nauseating she could not conceive. Prayer at this hour with that woman. And the sound of the bell flooded the room with its melancholy wave; which receded, and gathered itself together to fall once more, when she heard, distractingly, something fumbling, something scratching at the door. Who at this hour? Three, good Heavens! Three already! For with overpowering directness and dignity the clock struck three; and she heard nothing else; but the door handle slipped round and in came Richard! What a surprise! In came Richard, holding out flowers. She had failed him, once at Constantinople; and Lady Bruton, whose lunch parties were said to be extraordinarily amusing, had not asked her. He was holding out flowers--roses, red and white roses. (But he could not bring himself to say he loved her; not in so many words.)
But how lovely, she said, taking his flowers. She understood; she understood without his speaking; his Clarissa. She put them in vases on the mantelpiece. How lovely they looked! she said. And was it amusing, she asked? Had Lady Bruton asked after her? Peter Walsh was back. Mrs. Marsham had written. Must she ask Ellie Henderson? That woman Kilman was upstairs.
"But let us sit down for five minutes," said Richard.
It all looked so empty. All the chairs were against the wall. What had they been doing? Oh, it was for the party; no, he had not forgotten, the party. Peter Walsh was back. Oh yes; she had had him. And he was going to get a divorce; and he was in love with some woman out there. And he hadn't changed in the slightest. There she was, mending her dress. . . .
"Thinking of Bourton," she said.
"Hugh was at lunch," said Richard. She had met him too! Well, he was getting absolutely intolerable. Buying Evelyn necklaces; fatter than ever; an intolerable ass.
"And it came over me 'I might have married you,'" she said, thinking of Peter sitting there in his little bow-tie; with that knife, opening it, shutting it. "Just as he always was, you know."
They were talking about him at lunch, said Richard. (But he could not tell her he loved her. He held her hand. Happiness is this, he thought.) They had been writing a letter to the Times for Millicent Bruton. That was about all Hugh was fit for.
"And our dear Miss Kilman?" he asked. Clarissa thought the roses absolutely lovely; first bunched together; now of their own accord starting apart.
"Kilman arrives just as we've done lunch," she said. "Elizabeth turns pink. They shut themselves up. I suppose they're praying."
Lord! He didn't like it; but these things pass over if you let them.
"In a mackintosh with an umbrella," said Clarissa.
He had not said "I love you"; but he held her hand. Happiness is this, is this, he thought.
"But why should I ask all the dull women in London to my parties?" said Clarissa. And if Mrs. Marsham gave a party, did she invite her guests?
"Poor Ellie Henderson," said Richard--it was a very odd thing how much Clarissa minded about her parties, he thought.
But Richard had no notion of the look of a room. However--what was he going to say?
If she worried about these parties he would not let her give them. Did she wish she had married Peter? But he must go.
He must be off, he said, getting up. But he stood for a moment as if he were about to say something; and she wondered what? Why? There were the roses.
"Some Committee?" she asked, as he opened the door.
"Armenians," he said; or perhaps it was "Albanians."
And there is a dignity in people; a solitude; even between husband and wife a gulf; and that one must respect, thought Clarissa, watching him open the door; for one would not part with it oneself, or take it, against his will, from one's husband, without losing one's independence, one's self-respect--something, after all, priceless.
He returned with a pillow and a quilt.
"An hour's complete rest after luncheon," he said. And he went.
How like him! He would go on saying "An hour's complete rest after luncheon" to the end of time, because a doctor had ordered it once. It was like him to take what doctors said literally; part of his adorable, divine simplicity, which no one had to the same extent; which made him go and do the thing while she and Peter frittered their time away bickering. He was already halfway to the House of Commons, to his Armenians, his Albanians, having settled her on the sofa, looking at his roses. And people would say, "Clarissa Dalloway is spoilt." She cared much more for her roses than for the Armenians. Hunted out of existence, maimed, frozen, the victims of cruelty and injustice (she had heard Richard say so over and over again)--no, she could feel nothing for the Albanians, or was it the Armenians? but she loved her roses (didn't that help the Armenians?)--the only flowers she could bear to see cut. But Richard was already at the House of Commons; at his Committee, having settled all her difficulties. But no; alas, that was not true. He did not see the reasons against asking Ellie Henderson. She would do it, of course, as he wished it. Since he had brought the pillows, she would lie down. . . . But--but--why did she suddenly feel, for no reason that she could discover, desperately unhappy? As a person who has dropped some grain of pearl or diamond into the grass and parts the tall blades very carefully, this way and that, and searches here and there vainly, and at last spies it there at the roots, so she went through one thing and another; no, it was not Sally Seton saying that Richard would never be in the Cabinet because he had a second-class brain (it came back to her); no, she did not mind that; nor was it to do with Elizabeth either and Doris Kilman; those were facts. It was a feeling, some unpleasant feeling, earlier in the day perhaps; something that Peter had said, combined with some depression of her own, in her bedroom, taking off her hat; and what Richard had said had added to it, but what had he said? There were his roses. Her parties! That was it! Her parties! Both of them criticised her very unfairly, laughed at her very unjustly, for her parties. That was it! That was it!
Well, how was she going to defend herself? Now that she knew what it was, she felt perfectly happy. They thought, or Peter at any rate thought, that she enjoyed imposing herself; liked to have famous people about her; great names; was simply a snob in short. Well, Peter might think so. Richard merely thought it foolish of her to like excitement when she knew it was bad for her heart. It was childish, he thought. And both were quite wrong. What she liked was simply life.
"That's what I do it for," she said, speaking aloud, to life.
Since she was lying on the sofa, cloistered, exempt, the presence of this thing which she felt to be so obvious became physically existent; with robes of sound from the street, sunny, with hot breath, whispering, blowing out the blinds. But suppose Peter said to her, "Yes, yes, but your parties--what's the sense of your parties?" all she could say was (and nobody could be expected to understand): They're an offering; which sounded horribly vague. But who was Peter to make out that life was all plain sailing?--Peter always in love, always in love with the wrong woman? What's your love? she might say to him. And she knew his answer; how it is the most important thing in the world and no woman possibly understood it. Very well. But could any man understand what she meant either? about life? She could not imagine Peter or Richard taking the trouble to give a party for no reason whatever.
But to go deeper, beneath what people said (and these judgements, how superficial, how fragmentary they are!) in her own mind now, what did it mean to her, this thing she called life? Oh, it was very queer. Here was So-and-so in South Kensington; some one up in Bayswater; and somebody else, say, in Mayfair. And she felt quite continuously a sense of their existence; and she felt what a waste; and she felt what a pity; and she felt if only they could be brought together; so she did it. And it was an offering; to combine, to create; but to whom?
An offering for the sake of offering, perhaps. Anyhow, it was her gift. Nothing else had she of the slightest importance; could not think, write, even play the piano. She muddled Armenians and Turks; loved success; hated discomfort; must be liked; talked oceans of nonsense: and to this day, ask her what the Equator was, and she did not know. All the same, that one day should follow another; Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday; that one should wake up in the morning; see the sky; walk in the park; meet Hugh Whitbread; then suddenly in came Peter; then these roses; it was enough. After that, how unbelievable death was!--that it must end; and no one in the whole world would know how she had loved it all; how, every instant . . .
The door opened. Elizabeth knew that her mother was resting. She came in very quietly. She stood perfectly still. Was it that some Mongol had been wrecked on the coast of Norfolk (as Mrs. Hilbery said), had mixed with the Dalloway ladies, perhaps, a hundred years ago? For the Dalloways, in general, were fair-haired; blue-eyed; Elizabeth, on the contrary, was dark; had Chinese eyes in a pale face; an Oriental mystery; was gentle, considerate, still. As a child, she had had a perfect sense of humour; but now at seventeen, why, Clarissa could not in the least understand, she had become very serious; like a hyacinth, sheathed in glossy green, with buds just tinted, a hyacinth which has had no sun.
She stood quite still and looked at her mother; but the door was ajar, and outside the door was Miss Kilman, as Clarissa knew; Miss Kilman in her mackintosh, listening to whatever they said.
Yes, Miss Kilman stood on the landing, and wore a mackintosh; but had her reasons. First, it was cheap; second, she was over forty; and did not, after all, dress to please. She was poor, moreover; degradingly poor. Otherwise she would not be taking jobs from people like the Dalloways; from rich people, who liked to be kind. Mr. Dalloway, to do him justice, had been kind. But Mrs. Dalloway had not. She had been merely condescending. She came from the most worthless of all classes--the rich, with a smattering of culture. They had expensive things everywhere; pictures, carpets, lots of servants. She considered that she had a perfect right to anything that the Dalloways did for her.
She had been cheated. Yes, the word was no exaggeration, for surely a girl has a right to some kind of happiness? And she had never been happy, what with being so clumsy and so poor. And then, just as she might have had a chance at Miss Dolby's school, the war came; and she had never been able to tell lies. Miss Dolby thought she would be happier with people who shared her views about the Germans. She had had to go. It was true that the family was of German origin; spelt the name Kiehlman in the eighteenth century; but her brother had been killed. They turned her out because she would not pretend that the Germans were all villains--when she had German friends, when the only happy days of her life had been spent in Germany! And after all, she could read history. She had had to take whatever she could get. Mr. Dalloway had come across her working for the Friends. He had allowed her (and that was really generous of him) to teach his daughter history. Also she did a little Extension lecturing and so on. Then Our Lord had come to her (and here she always bowed her head). She had seen the light two years and three months ago. Now she did not envy women like Clarissa Dalloway; she pitied them.
She pitied and despised them from the bottom of her heart, as she stood on the soft carpet, looking at the old engraving of a little girl with a muff. With all this luxury going on, what hope was there for a better state of things? Instead of lying on a sofa--"My mother is resting," Elizabeth had said--she should have been in a factory; behind a counter; Mrs. Dalloway and all the other fine ladies!
Bitter and burning, Miss Kilman had turned into a church two years three months ago. She had heard the Rev. Edward Whittaker preach; the boys sing; had seen the solemn lights descend, and whether it was the music, or the voices (she herself when alone in the evening found comfort in a violin; but the sound was excruciating; she had no ear), the hot and turbulent feelings which boiled and surged in her had been assuaged as she sat there, and she had wept copiously, and gone to call on Mr. Whittaker at his private house in Kensington. It was the hand of God, he said. The Lord had shown her the way. So now, whenever the hot and painful feelings boiled within her, this hatred of Mrs. Dalloway, this grudge against the world, she thought of God. She thought of Mr. Whittaker. Rage was succeeded by calm. A sweet savour filled her veins, her lips parted, and, standing formidable upon the landing in her mackintosh, she looked with steady and sinister serenity at Mrs. Dalloway, who came out with her daughter.
Elizabeth said she had forgotten her gloves. That was because Miss Kilman and her mother hated each other. She could not bear to see them together. She ran upstairs to find her gloves.
But Miss Kilman did not hate Mrs. Dalloway. Turning her large gooseberry-coloured eyes upon Clarissa, observing her small pink face, her delicate body, her air of freshness and fashion, Miss Kilman felt, Fool! Simpleton! You who have known neither sorrow nor pleasure; who have trifled your life away! And there rose in her an overmastering desire to overcome her; to unmask her. If she could have felled her it would have eased her. But it was not the body; it was the soul and its mockery that she wished to subdue; make feel her mastery. If only she could make her weep; could ruin her; humiliate her; bring her to her knees crying, You are right! But this was God's will, not Miss Kilman's. It was to be a religious victory. So she glared; so she glowered.
Clarissa was really shocked. This a Christian--this woman! This woman had taken her daughter from her! She in touch with invisible presences! Heavy, ugly, commonplace, without kindness or grace, she know the meaning of life!
"You are taking Elizabeth to the Stores?" Mrs. Dalloway said.
Miss Kilman said she was. They stood there. Miss Kilman was not going to make herself agreeable. She had always earned her living. Her knowledge of modern history was thorough in the extreme. She did out of her meagre income set aside so much for causes she believed in; whereas this woman did nothing, believed nothing; brought up her daughter--but here was Elizabeth, rather out of breath, the beautiful girl.
So they were going to the Stores. Odd it was, as Miss Kilman stood there (and stand she did, with the power and taciturnity of some prehistoric monster armoured for primeval warfare), how, second by second, the idea of her diminished, how hatred (which was for ideas, not people) crumbled, how she lost her malignity, her size, became second by second merely Miss Kilman, in a mackintosh, whom Heaven knows Clarissa would have liked to help.
At this dwindling of the monster, Clarissa laughed. Saying good-bye, she laughed.
Off they went together, Miss Kilman and Elizabeth, downstairs.
With a sudden impulse, with a violent anguish, for this woman was taking her daughter from her, Clarissa leant over the bannisters and cried out, "Remember the party! Remember our party tonight!"
But Elizabeth had already opened the front door; there was a van passing; she did not answer.
Love and religion! thought Clarissa, going back into the drawing-room, tingling all over. How detestable, how detestable they are! For now that the body of Miss Kilman was not before her, it overwhelmed her--the idea. The cruelest things in the world, she thought, seeing them clumsy, hot, domineering, hypocritical, eavesdropping, jealous, infinitely cruel and unscrupulous, dressed in a mackintosh coat, on the landing; love and religion. Had she ever tried to convert any one herself? Did she not wish everybody merely to be themselves? And she watched out of the window the old lady opposite climbing upstairs. Let her climb upstairs if she wanted to; let her stop; then let her, as Clarissa had often seen her, gain her bedroom, part her curtains, and disappear again into the background. Somehow one respected that--that old woman looking out of the window, quite unconscious that she was being watched. There was something solemn in it--but love and religion would destroy that, whatever it was, the privacy of the soul. The odious Kilman would destroy it. Yet it was a sight that made her want to cry.
Love destroyed too. Everything that was fine, everything that was true went. Take Peter Walsh now. There was a man, charming, clever, with ideas about everything. If you wanted to know about Pope, say, or Addison, or just to talk nonsense, what people were like, what things meant, Peter knew better than any one. It was Peter who had helped her; Peter who had lent her books. But look at the women he loved--vulgar, trivial, commonplace. Think of Peter in love--he came to see her after all these years, and what did he talk about? Himself. Horrible passion! she thought. Degrading passion! she thought, thinking of Kilman and her Elizabeth walking to the Army and Navy Stores.
Big Ben struck the half-hour.
How extraordinary it was, strange, yes, touching, to see the old lady (they had been neighbours ever so many years) move away from the window, as if she were attached to that sound, that string. Gigantic as it was, it had something to do with her. Down, down, into the midst of ordinary things the finger fell making the moment solemn. She was forced, so Clarissa imagined, by that sound, to move, to go--but where? Clarissa tried to follow her as she turned and disappeared, and could still just see her white cap moving at the back of the bedroom. She was still there moving about at the other end of the room. Why creeds and prayers and mackintoshes? when, thought Clarissa, that's the miracle, that's the mystery; that old lady, she meant, whom she could see going from chest of drawers to dressing-table. She could still see her. And the supreme mystery which Kilman might say she had solved, or Peter might say he had solved, but Clarissa didn't believe either of them had the ghost of an idea of solving, was simply this: here was one room; there another. Did religion solve that, or love?
Love--but here the other clock, the clock which always struck two minutes after Big Ben, came shuffling in with its lap full of odds and ends, which it dumped down as if Big Ben were all very well with his majesty laying down the law, so solemn, so just, but she must remember all sorts of little things besides--Mrs. Marsham, Ellie Henderson, glasses for ices--all sorts of little things came flooding and lapping and dancing in on the wake of that solemn stroke which lay flat like a bar of gold on the sea. Mrs. Marsham, Ellie Henderson, glasses for ices. She must telephone now at once.
Volubly, troublously, the late clock sounded, coming in on the wake of Big Ben, with its lap full of trifles. Beaten up, broken up by the assault of carriages, the brutality of vans, the eager advance of myriads of angular men, of flaunting women, the domes and spires of offices and hospitals, the last relics of this lap full of odds and ends seemed to break, like the spray of an exhausted wave, upon the body of Miss Kilman standing still in the street for a moment to mutter "It is the flesh."
It was the flesh that she must control. Clarissa Dalloway had insulted her. That she expected. But she had not triumphed; she had not mastered the flesh. Ugly, clumsy, Clarissa Dalloway had laughed at her for being that; and had revived the fleshly desires, for she minded looking as she did beside Clarissa. Nor could she talk as she did. But why wish to resemble her? Why? She despised Mrs. Dalloway from the bottom of her heart. She was not serious. She was not good. Her life was a tissue of vanity and deceit. Yet Doris Kilman had been overcome. She had, as a matter of fact, very nearly burst into tears when Clarissa Dalloway laughed at her. "It is the flesh, it is the flesh," she muttered (it being her habit to talk aloud) trying to subdue this turbulent and painful feeling as she walked down Victoria Street. She prayed to God. She could not help being ugly; she could not afford to buy pretty clothes. Clarissa Dalloway had laughed--but she would concentrate her mind upon something else until she had reached the pillar-box. At any rate she had got Elizabeth. But she would think of something else; she would think of Russia; until she reached the pillar-box.
How nice it must be, she said, in the country, struggling, as Mr. Whittaker had told her, with that violent grudge against the world which had scorned her, sneered at her, cast her off, beginning with this indignity--the infliction of her unlovable body which people could not bear to see. Do her hair as she might, her forehead remained like an egg, bald, white. No clothes suited her. She might buy anything. And for a woman, of course, that meant never meeting the opposite sex. Never would she come first with any one. Sometimes lately it had seemed to her that, except for Elizabeth, her food was all that she lived for; her comforts; her dinner, her tea; her hot-water bottle at night. But one must fight; vanquish; have faith in God. Mr. Whittaker had said she was there for a purpose. But no one knew the agony! He said, pointing to the crucifix, that God knew. But why should she have to suffer when other women, like Clarissa Dalloway, escaped? Knowledge comes through suffering, said Mr. Whittaker.
She had passed the pillar-box, and Elizabeth had turned into the cool brown tobacco department of the Army and Navy Stores while she was still muttering to herself what Mr. Whittaker had said about knowledge coming through suffering and the flesh. "The flesh," she muttered.
What department did she want? Elizabeth interrupted her.
"Petticoats," she said abruptly, and stalked straight on to the lift.
Up they went. Elizabeth guided her this way and that; guided her in her abstraction as if she had been a great child, an unwieldy battleship. There were the petticoats, brown, decorous, striped, frivolous, solid, flimsy; and she chose, in her abstraction, portentously, and the girl serving thought her mad.
Elizabeth rather wondered, as they did up the parcel, what Miss Kilman was thinking. They must have their tea, said Miss Kilman, rousing, collecting herself. They had their tea.
Elizabeth rather wondered whether Miss Kilman could be hungry. It was her way of eating, eating with intensity, then looking, again and again, at a plate of sugared cakes on the table next them; then, when a lady and a child sat down and the child took the cake, could Miss Kilman really mind it? Yes, Miss Kilman did mind it. She had wanted that cake--the pink one. The pleasure of eating was almost the only pure pleasure left her, and then to be baffled even in that!
When people are happy, they have a reserve, she had told Elizabeth, upon which to draw, whereas she was like a wheel without a tyre (she was fond of such metaphors), jolted by every pebble, so she would say staying on after the lesson standing by the fire-place with her bag of books, her "satchel," she called it, on a Tuesday morning, after the lesson was over. And she talked too about the war. After all, there were people who did not think the English invariably right. There were books. There were meetings. There were other points of view. Would Elizabeth like to come with her to listen to So-and-so (a most extraordinary looking old man)? Then Miss Kilman took her to some church in Kensington and they had tea with a clergyman. She had lent her books. Law, medicine, politics, all professions are open to women of your generation, said Miss Kilman. But for herself, her career was absolutely ruined and was it her fault? Good gracious, said Elizabeth, no.
And her mother would come calling to say that a hamper had come from Bourton and would Miss Kilman like some flowers? To Miss Kilman she was always very, very nice, but Miss Kilman squashed the flowers all in a bunch, and hadn't any small talk, and what interested Miss Kilman bored her mother, and Miss Kilman and she were terrible together; and Miss Kilman swelled and looked very plain. But then Miss Kilman was frightfully clever. Elizabeth had never thought about the poor. They lived with everything they wanted,--her mother had breakfast in bed every day; Lucy carried it up; and she liked old women because they were Duchesses, and being descended from some Lord. But Miss Kilman said (one of those Tuesday mornings when the lesson was over), "My grandfather kept an oil and colour shop in Kensington." Miss Kilman made one feel so small.
Miss Kilman took another cup of tea. Elizabeth, with her oriental bearing, her inscrutable mystery, sat perfectly upright; no, she did not want anything more. She looked for her gloves--her white gloves. They were under the table. Ah, but she must not go! Miss Kilman could not let her go! this youth, that was so beautiful, this girl, whom she genuinely loved! Her large hand opened and shut on the table.
But perhaps it was a little flat somehow, Elizabeth felt. And really she would like to go.
But said Miss Kilman, "I've not quite finished yet."
Of course, then, Elizabeth would wait. But it was rather stuffy in here.