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Woolf, Virginia, 1882-1941

"The Voyage Out"


With every word the mist which had enveloped them, making them seem
unreal to each other, since the previous afternoon melted a little
further, and their contact became more and more natural. Up through the
sultry southern landscape they saw the world they knew appear clearer
and more vividly than it had ever appeared before As upon that occasion
at the hotel when she had sat in the window, the world once more
arranged itself beneath her gaze very vividly and in its true
proportions. She glanced curiously at Terence from time to time,
observing his grey coat and his purple tie; observing the man with whom
she was to spend the rest of her life.
After one of these glances she murmured, "Yes, I'm in love. There's no
doubt; I'm in love with you."
Nevertheless, they remained uncomfortably apart; drawn so close
together, as she spoke, that there seemed no division between them, and
the next moment separate and far away again. Feeling this painfully, she
exclaimed, "It will be a fight."
But as she looked at him she perceived from the shape of his eyes, the
lines about his mouth, and other peculiarities that he pleased her, and
she added:
"Where I want to fight, you have compassion. You're finer than I am;
you're much finer."
He returned her glance and smiled, perceiving, much as she had done, the
very small individual things about her which made her delightful to
him.


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