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Woolf, Virginia, 1882-1941

"The Voyage Out"

Unconscious whether he thought the words or spoke them aloud, he
said, "No two people have ever been so happy as we have been. No one has
ever loved as we have loved."
It seemed to him that their complete union and happiness filled the room
with rings eddying more and more widely. He had no wish in the world
left unfulfilled. They possessed what could never be taken from them.
He was not conscious that any one had come into the room, but later,
moments later, or hours later perhaps, he felt an arm behind him. The
arms were round him. He did not want to have arms round him, and the
mysterious whispering voices annoyed him. He laid Rachel's hand, which
was now cold, upon the counterpane, and rose from his chair, and walked
across to the window. The windows were uncurtained, and showed the moon,
and a long silver pathway upon the surface of the waves.
"Why," he said, in his ordinary tone of voice, "look at the moon.
There's a halo round the moon. We shall have rain to-morrow."
The arms, whether they were the arms of man or of woman, were round him
again; they were pushing him gently towards the door. He turned of his
own accord and walked steadily in advance of the arms, conscious of
a little amusement at the strange way in which people behaved merely
because some one was dead. He would go if they wished it, but nothing
they could do would disturb his happiness.


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