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Woolf, Virginia, 1882-1941

"The Voyage Out"

I'm a bit of a snob; I'm
ambitious--"
"Oh, our faults!" she cried. "What do they matter?" Then she demanded,
"Am I in love--is this being in love--are we to marry each other?"
Overcome by the charm of her voice and her presence, he exclaimed, "Oh,
you're free, Rachel. To you, time will make no difference, or marriage
or--"
The voices of the others behind them kept floating, now farther, now
nearer, and Mrs. Flushing's laugh rose clearly by itself.
"Marriage?" Rachel repeated.
The shouts were renewed behind, warning them that they were bearing too
far to the left. Improving their course, he continued, "Yes, marriage."
The feeling that they could not be united until she knew all about him
made him again endeavour to explain.
"All that's been bad in me, the things I've put up with--the second
best--"
She murmured, considered her own life, but could not describe how it
looked to her now.
"And the loneliness!" he continued. A vision of walking with her through
the streets of London came before his eyes. "We will go for walks
together," he said. The simplicity of the idea relieved them, and for
the first time they laughed. They would have liked had they dared to
take each other by the hand, but the consciousness of eyes fixed on them
from behind had not yet deserted them.
"Books, people, sights--Mrs. Nutt, Greeley, Hutchinson," Hewet murmured.


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