Mrs. Dalloway had to check her smile.

"D'you mind if we walk?" she said. "The air's so delicious."

She snuffed it like a racehorse as they shut the door and stood on deck.

"Isn't it good to be alive?" she exclaimed, and drew Rachel's arm within
hers.

"Look, look! How exquisite!"

The shores of Portugal were beginning to lose their substance; but
the land was still the land, though at a great distance. They could
distinguish the little towns that were sprinkled in the folds of the
hills, and the smoke rising faintly. The towns appeared to be very small
in comparison with the great purple mountains behind them.

"Honestly, though," said Clarissa, having looked, "I don't like views.
They're too inhuman." They walked on.

"How odd it is!" she continued impulsively. "This time yesterday we'd
never met. I was packing in a stuffy little room in the hotel. We know
absolutely nothing about each other--and yet--I feel as if I _did_ know
you!"

"You have children--your husband was in Parliament?"

"You've never been to school, and you live--?"

"With my aunts at Richmond."