Voiceswereheardattheendofthecorridor。Mrs。Ambrosewasspeakinglow；WilliamPepperwasremarkinginhisdefiniteandratheracidvoice，“ThatisthetypeofladywithwhomIfindmyselfdistinctlyoutofsympathy。She——“
　　ButneitherRichardnorClarissaprofitedbytheverdict，fordirectlyitseemedlikelythattheywouldoverhear，Richardcrackledasheetofpaper。
　　“Ioftenwonder，“Clarissamusedinbed，overthelittlewhitevolumeofPascalwhichwentwithhereverywhere，“whetheritisreallygoodforawomantolivewithamanwhoismorallyhersuperior，asRichardismine。Itmakesonesodependent。IsupposeIfeelforhimwhatmymotherandwomenofhergenerationfeltforChrist。
　　Itjustshowsthatonecan’tdowithout_something_。“Shethenfellintoasleep，whichwasasusualextremelysoundandrefreshing，butvisitedbyfantasticdreamsofgreatGreeklettersstalkingroundtheroom，whenshewokeupandlaughedtoherself，rememberingwhereshewasandthattheGreekletterswererealpeople，lyingasleepnotmanyyardsaway。Then，thinkingoftheblackseaoutsidetossingbeneaththemoon，sheshuddered，andthoughtofherhusbandandtheothersascompanionsonthevoyage。
　　Thedreamswerenotconfinedtoherindeed，butwentfromonebraintoanother。Theyalldreamtofeachotherthatnight，aswasnatural，consideringhowthinthepartitionswerebetweenthem，andhowstrangelytheyhadbeenliftedofftheearthtositnexteachotherinmid-ocean，andseeeverydetailofeachother’sfaces，andhearwhatevertheychancedtosay。
　　NextmorningClarissawasupbeforeanyoneelse。Shedressed，andwasoutondeck，breathingthefreshairofacalmmorning，and，makingthecircuitoftheshipforthesecondtime，sheranstraightintotheleanpersonofMr。Grice，thesteward。
　　Sheapologised，andatthesametimeaskedhimtoenlightenher:
　　whatwerethoseshinybrassstandsfor，halfglassonthetop？
　　Shehadbeenwondering，andcouldnotguess。Whenhehaddoneexplaining，shecriedenthusiastically:
　　“Idothinkthattobeasailormustbethefinestthingintheworld！“
　　“Andwhatd’youknowaboutit？“saidMr。Grice，kindlinginastrangemanner。“Pardonme。WhatdoesanymanorwomanbroughtupinEnglandknowaboutthesea？Theyprofesstoknow；buttheydon’t。“
　　Thebitternesswithwhichhespokewasominousofwhatwastocome。
　　Heledherofftohisownquarters，and，sittingontheedgeofabrass-boundtable，lookinguncommonlylikeasea-gull，withherwhitetaperingbodyandthinalertface，Mrs。Dallowayhadtolistentothetiradeofafanaticalman。Didsherealise，tobeginwith，whataverysmallpartoftheworldthelandwas？
　　Howpeaceful，howbeautiful，howbenignantincomparisonthesea？
　　ThedeepwaterscouldsustainEuropeunaidedifeveryearthlyanimaldiedoftheplagueto-morrow。Mr。Gricerecalleddreadfulsightswhichhehadseenintherichestcityoftheworld——menandwomenstandinginlinehourafterhourtoreceiveamugofgreasysoup。
　　“AndIthoughtofthegoodfleshdownherewaitingandaskingtobecaught。I’mnotexactlyaProtestant，andI’mnotaCatholic，butIcouldalmostprayforthedaysofpoperytocomeagain——
　　becauseofthefasts。“
　　Ashetalkedhekeptopeningdrawersandmovinglittleglassjars。
　　Herewerethetreasureswhichthegreatoceanhadbestoweduponhim——
　　palefishingreenishliquids，blobsofjellywithstreamingtresses，fishwithlightsintheirheads，theylivedsodeep。
　　“Theyhaveswumaboutamongbones，“Clarissasighed。
　　“You’rethinkingofShakespeare，“saidMr。Grice，andtakingdownacopyfromashelfwelllinedwithbooks，recitedinanemphaticnasalvoice:
　　Fullfathomfivethyfatherlies，“Agrandfellow，Shakespeare，“hesaid，replacingthevolume。
　　Clarissawassogladtohearhimsayso。
　　“Whichisyourfavouriteplay？Iwonderifit’sthesameasmine？“
　　“_HenrytheFifth_，“saidMr。Grice。
　　“Joy！“criedClarissa。“Itis！“
　　_Hamlet_waswhatyoumightcalltoointrospectiveforMr。Grice，thesonnetstoopassionate；HenrytheFifthwastohimthemodelofanEnglishgentleman。ButhisfavouritereadingwasHuxley，HerbertSpencer，andHenryGeorge；whileEmersonandThomasHardyhereadforrelaxation。HewasgivingMrs。DallowayhisviewsuponthepresentstateofEnglandwhenthebreakfastbellrungsoimperiouslythatshehadtotearherselfaway，promisingtocomebackandbeshownhissea-weeds。
　　Theparty，whichhadseemedsooddtoherthenightbefore，wasalreadygatheredroundthetable，stillundertheinfluenceofsleep，andthereforeuncommunicative，butherentrancesentalittleflutterlikeabreathofairthroughthemall。
　　“I’vehadthemostinterestingtalkofmylife！“sheexclaimed，takingherseatbesideWilloughby。“D’yourealisethatoneofyourmenisaphilosopherandapoet？“
　　“Averyinterestingfellow——that’swhatIalwayssay，“saidWilloughby，distinguishingMr。Grice。“ThoughRachelfindshimabore。“
　　“He’saborewhenhetalksaboutcurrents，“saidRachel。Hereyeswerefullofsleep，butMrs。Dallowaystillseemedtoherwonderful。
　　“I’venevermetaboreyet！“saidClarissa。
　　“AndIshouldsaytheworldwasfullofthem！“exclaimedHelen。
　　Butherbeauty，whichwasradiantinthemorninglight，tookthecontrarinessfromherwords。
　　“Iagreethatit’stheworstonecanpossiblysayofanyone，“
　　saidClarissa。“Howmuchratheronewouldbeamurdererthanabore！“
　　sheadded，withherusualairofsayingsomethingprofound。
　　“Onecanfancylikingamurderer。It’sthesamewithdogs。
　　Somedogsareawfulbores，poordears。“
　　IthappenedthatRichardwassittingnexttoRachel。Shewascuriouslyconsciousofhispresenceandappearance——hiswell-cutclothes，hiscracklingshirt-front，hiscuffswithblueringsroundthem，andthesquare-tipped，verycleanfingerswiththeredstoneonthelittlefingerofthelefthand。
　　“Wehadadogwhowasaboreandknewit，“hesaid，addressingherincool，easytones。“HewasaSkyeterrier，oneofthoselongchaps，withlittlefeetpokingoutfromtheirhairlike——
　　likecaterpillars——no，likesofasIshouldsay。Well，wehadanotherdogatthesametime，ablackbriskanimal——aSchipperke，Ithink，youcallthem。Youcan’timagineagreatercontrast。TheSkyesoslowanddeliberate，lookingupatyoulikesomeoldgentlemanintheclub，asmuchastosay，“Youdon’treallymeanit，doyou？“
　　andtheSchipperkeasquickasaknife。IlikedtheSkyebest，Imustconfess。Therewassomethingpatheticabouthim。“
　　Thestoryseemedtohavenoclimax。
　　“Whathappenedtohim？“Rachelasked。
　　“That’saverysadstory，“saidRichard，loweringhisvoiceandpeelinganapple。“Hefollowedmywifeinthecaronedayandgotrunoverbyabruteofacyclist。“
　　“Washekilled？“askedRachel。
　　ButClarissaatherendofthetablehadoverheard。
　　“Don’ttalkofit！“shecried。“It’sathingIcan’tbeartothinkoftothisday。“
　　Surelythetearsstoodinhereyes？
　　“That’sthepainfulthingaboutpets，“saidMr。Dalloway；“theydie。
　　ThefirstsorrowIcanrememberwasforthedeathofadormouse。
　　IregrettosaythatIsatuponit。Still，thatdidn’tmakeoneanythelesssorry。HereliestheduckthatSamuelJohnsonsaton，eh？
　　Iwasbigformyage。“
　　“Thenwehadcanaries，“hecontinued，“apairofring-doves，alemur，andatonetimeamartin。“
　　“Didyouliveinthecountry？“Rachelaskedhim。
　　“Welivedinthecountryforsixmonthsoftheyear。WhenIsay’we’Imeanfoursisters，abrother，andmyself。There’snothinglikecomingofalargefamily。Sistersparticularlyaredelightful。“
　　“Dick，youwerehorriblyspoilt！“criedClarissaacrossthetable。
　　“No，no。Appreciated，“saidRichard。
　　Rachelhadotherquestionsonthetipofhertongue；orratheroneenormousquestion，whichshedidnotintheleastknowhowtoputintowords。Thetalkappearedtooairytoadmitofit。
　　“Pleasetellme——everything。“Thatwaswhatshewantedtosay。
　　Hehaddrawnapartonelittlechinkandshowedastonishingtreasures。
　　Itseemedtoherincrediblethatamanlikethatshouldbewillingtotalktoher。Hehadsistersandpets，andoncelivedinthecountry。
　　Shestirredhertearoundandround；thebubbleswhichswamandclusteredinthecupseemedtoherliketheunionoftheirminds。
　　Thetalkmeanwhileracedpasther，andwhenRichardsuddenlystatedinajoculartoneofvoice，“I’msureMissVinrace，now，hassecretleaningstowardsCatholicism，“shehadnoideawhattoanswer，andHelencouldnothelplaughingatthestartshegave。
　　However，breakfastwasoverandMrs。Dallowaywasrising。
　　“Ialwaysthinkreligion’slikecollectingbeetles，“shesaid，summingupthediscussionasshewentupthestairswithHelen。
　　“Onepersonhasapassionforblackbeetles；anotherhasn’t；it’snogoodarguingaboutit。What’s_your_blackbeetlenow？“
　　“Isupposeit’smychildren，“saidHelen。
　　“Ah——that’sdifferent，“Clarissabreathed。“Dotellme。
　　Youhaveaboy，haven’tyou？Isn’titdetestable，leavingthem？“
　　Itwasasthoughablueshadowhadfallenacrossapool。
　　Theireyesbecamedeeper，andtheirvoicesmorecordial。
　　Insteadofjoiningthemastheybegantopacethedeck，Rachelwasindignantwiththeprosperousmatrons，whomadeherfeeloutsidetheirworldandmotherless，andturningback，sheleftthemabruptly。
　　Sheslammedthedoorofherroom，andpulledouthermusic。
　　Itwasalloldmusic——BachandBeethoven，MozartandPurcell——
　　thepagesyellow，theengravingroughtothefinger。Inthreeminutesshewasdeepinaverydifficult，veryclassicalfugueinA，andoverherfacecameaqueerremoteimpersonalexpressionofcompleteabsorptionandanxioussatisfaction。Nowshestumbled；
　　nowshefalteredandhadtoplaythesamebartwiceover；butaninvisiblelineseemedtostringthenotestogether，fromwhichroseashape，abuilding。Shewassofarabsorbedinthiswork，foritwasreallydifficulttofindhowallthesesoundsshouldstandtogether，anddrewuponthewholeofherfaculties，thatsheneverheardaknockatthedoor。Itwasburstimpulsivelyopen，andMrs。Dallowaystoodintheroomleavingthedooropen，sothatastripofthewhitedeckandoftheblueseaappearedthroughtheopening。TheshapeoftheBachfuguecrashedtotheground。
　　“Don’tletmeinterrupt，“Clarissaimplored。“Iheardyouplaying，andIcouldn’tresist。IadoreBach！“
　　Rachelflushedandfumbledherfingersinherlap。Shestoodupawkwardly。
　　“It’stoodifficult，“shesaid。
　　“Butyouwereplayingquitesplendidly！Ioughttohavestayedoutside。“
　　“No，“saidRachel。
　　Sheslid_Cowper’s__Letters_and_Wuthering__Heights_outofthearm-chair，sothatClarissawasinvitedtositthere。
　　“Whatadearlittleroom！“shesaid，lookinground。
　　“Oh，_Cowper’s__Letters>！“I’veneverreadthem。Aretheynice？“
　　“Ratherdull，“saidRachel。
　　“Hewroteawfullywell，didn’the？“saidClarissa；“——ifonelikesthatkindofthing——finishedhissentencesandallthat。
　　_Wuthering__Heights_！Ah——that’smoreinmyline。Ireallycouldn’texistwithouttheBrontes！Don’tyoulovethem？Still，onthewhole，I’dratherlivewithoutthemthanwithoutJaneAusten。“
　　Lightlyandatrandomthoughshespoke，hermannerconveyedanextraordinarydegreeofsympathyanddesiretobefriend。
　　“JaneAusten？Idon’tlikeJaneAusten，“saidRachel。
　　“Youmonster！“Clarissaexclaimed。“Icanonlyjustforgiveyou。