The flag flew above the Palace. The King and Queen were
back then. Dick had met her at lunch the other day--a thoroughly nice
woman. It matters so much to the poor, thought Clarissa, and to the
soldiers. A man in bronze stood heroically on a pedestal with a gun on
her left hand side--the South African war. It matters, thought Mrs
Dalloway walking towards Buckingham Palace. There it stood four-square,
in the broad sunshine, uncompromising,
Newports Cigarettes, plain. But it was character, she
thought; something inborn in the race; what Indians respected. The Queen
went to hospitals,
Cheap Newport 100s, opened bazaars--the Queen of England, thought
Clarissa, looking at the Palace. Already at this hour a motor car passed
out at the gates; soldiers saluted; the gates were shut. And Clarissa,
crossing the road, entered the Park,
Newport Cigarettes, holding herself upright.