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| Bird-Cage Walk, St. James Park |
Did it matter then, she asked herself,
walking towards Bond Street, did it matter that she must inevitably cease completely;
all this must go on without her; did she resent it; or did it not become
consoling to believe that death ended absolutely? but that somehow in the
streets of London, on the ebb and flow of things, here, there, she survived,
Peter survived, lived in each other, she being part, she was positive, of the
trees at home; of the house there, ugly, rambling all to bits and pieces as it
was; part of people she had never met; being laid out like a mist between the
people she knew best, who lifted her on their branches as she had seen the
trees lift the mist, but it spread ever so far, her life, herself.
Mrs. Dalloway (MD 9)
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