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Jacob's Room by Virginia Woolf
page 33 of 208 (15%)
"How tiresome," Mrs. Plumer interrupted impulsively. "Does anybody know
Mr. Flanders?"

Mr. Durrant knew him; and therefore blushed slightly, and said,
awkwardly, something about being sure--looking at Mr. Plumer and
hitching the right leg of his trouser as he spoke. Mr. Plumer got up and
stood in front of the fireplace. Mrs. Plumer laughed like a
straightforward friendly fellow. In short, anything more horrible than
the scene, the setting, the prospect, even the May garden being
afflicted with chill sterility and a cloud choosing that moment to cross
the sun, cannot be imagined. There was the garden, of course. Every one
at the same moment looked at it. Owing to the cloud, the leaves ruffled
grey, and the sparrows--there were two sparrows.

"I think," said Mrs. Plumer, taking advantage of the momentary respite,
while the young men stared at the garden, to look at her husband, and
he, not accepting full responsibility for the act, nevertheless touched
the bell.

There can be no excuse for this outrage upon one hour of human life,
save the reflection which occurred to Mr. Plumer as he carved the
mutton, that if no don ever gave a luncheon party, if Sunday after
Sunday passed, if men went down, became lawyers, doctors, members of
Parliament, business men--if no don ever gave a luncheon party--

"Now, does lamb make the mint sauce, or mint sauce make the lamb?" he
asked the young man next him, to break a silence which had already
lasted five minutes and a half.

"I don't know, sir," said the young man, blushing very vividly.
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