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. Now, I shouldn't like to
think that any one had to make allowances for me."

"I don't quite agree, Richard," said Mrs. Dalloway. "Think of Shelley. I
feel that there's almost everything one wants in 'Adonais.'"

"Read 'Adonais' by all means," Richard conceded. "But whenever I hear
of Shelley I repeat to myself the words of Matthew Arnold, 'What a set!
What a set!'"

This roused Ridley's attention. "Matthew Arnold? A detestable prig!" he
snapped.

"A prig--granted," said Richard; "but, I think a man of the world.
That's where my point comes in. We politicians doubtless seem to you"