The solemnity of her husband’s assertion made Clarissa grave.
“It’s unthinkable,” she said. “Don’t tell me you’re a suffragist?” she turned to Ridley.
“I don’t care a fig one way or t’other,” said Ambrose. “If any creature is so deluded as to think that a vote does him or her any good, let him have it. He’ll soon learn better.”
“You’re not a politician, I see,” she smiled.
“Goodness, no,” said Ridley.
“I’m afraid your husband won’t approve of me,” said Dalloway aside, to Mrs. Ambrose. She suddenly recollected that he had been in Parliament.
“Don’t you ever find it rather dull?” she asked, not knowing exactly what to say.
Richard spread his hands before him, as if inscriptions were to be read in the palms of them.
“If you ask me whether I ever find it rather dull,” he said, “I am bo
