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Woolf, Virginia, 1882-1941

"The Voyage Out"

It was still very blue, dancing away as far as the eye could reach,
but the light on it was yellower, and the clouds were turning flamingo
red.
A feeling of intense depression crossed Hewet's mind as she spoke.
It seemed plain that she would never care for one person rather than
another; she was evidently quite indifferent to him; they seemed to
come very near, and then they were as far apart as ever again; and her
gesture as she turned away had been oddly beautiful.
"Nonsense," he said abruptly. "You like people. You like admiration.
Your real grudge against Hirst is that he doesn't admire you."
She made no answer for some time. Then she said:
"That's probably true. Of course I like people--I like almost every one
I've ever met."
She turned her back on the sea and regarded Hewet with friendly if
critical eyes. He was good-looking in the sense that he had always had
a sufficiency of beef to eat and fresh air to breathe. His head was big;
the eyes were also large; though generally vague they could be forcible;
and the lips were sensitive. One might account him a man of considerable
passion and fitful energy, likely to be at the mercy of moods which had
little relation to facts; at once tolerant and fastidious. The breadth
of his forehead showed capacity for thought. The interest with which
Rachel looked at him was heard in her voice.


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