coat, kissed him, and held him fast for a minute.

"Go and get a breath of air, Dick," she said. "You look quite washed
out. . . . How nice you smell! . . . And be polite to that woman. She
was so kind to me."

Thereupon Mrs. Dalloway turned to the cool side of her pillow, terribly
flattened but still invincible.

Richard found Helen talking to her brother-in-law, over two dishes of
yellow cake and smooth bread and butter.

"You look very ill!" she exclaimed on seeing him. "Come and have some
tea."

He remarked that the hands that moved about the cups were beautiful.

"I hear you've been very good to my wife," he said. "She's had an awful
time of it. You came in and fed her with champagne. Were you among the
saved yourself?"

"I? Oh, I haven't been sick for twenty years--sea-sick, I mean."

"There are three stages of convalescence, I always say," broke in the
hearty voice of Willoughby. "The milk stage, the bread-and-butter stage,
and the roast-beef stage. I should say you were at the bread-and-butter
stage." He handed him the plate.

"Now, I should advise a hearty tea, then a brisk walk on deck; and by
dinner-time you'll be clamouring for beef, eh?" He went off laughing,