"
The solemnity of her husband's assertion made Clarissa grave.
"It's unthinkable," she said. "Don't tell me you're a suffragist?" she
turned to Ridley.
"I don't care a fig one way or t'other," said Ambrose. "If any creature
is so deluded as to think that a vote does him or her any good, let him
have it. He'll soon learn better."
"You're not a politician, I see," she smiled.
"Goodness, no," said Ridley.
"I'm afraid your husband won't approve of me," said Dalloway aside, to
Mrs. Ambrose. She suddenly recollected that he had been in Parliament.
"Don't you ever find it rather dull?" she asked, not knowing exactly
what to say.
Richard spread his hands before him, as if inscriptions were to be read
in the palms of them.
"If you ask me whether I ever find it rather dull," he said, "I am bound
to say yes; on the other hand, if you ask me what career do you consider
on the whole, taking the good with the bad, the most enjoyable and
enviable, not to speak of its more serious side, of all careers, for a
man, I am bound to say, 'The Politician's.'"
"The Bar or politics, I agree," said Willoughby. "You get more run for
your money."
"All one's faculties have their play," said Richard. "I may be treading
on dangerous ground; but what I feel about poets and artists in general
is this: on your own lines, you can't be beaten--granted; but off your
own lines--puff--one has to make allowances.
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