{"product_id":"2940012312587","title":"The Voyage Out","description":"Chapter I\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs the streets that lead from the Strand to the Embankment are very\u003cbr\u003enarrow, it is better not to walk down them arm-in-arm. If you persist,\u003cbr\u003elawyers' clerks will have to make flying leaps into the mud; young lady\u003cbr\u003etypists will have to fidget behind you. In the streets of London where\u003cbr\u003ebeauty goes unregarded, eccentricity must pay the penalty, and it is\u003cbr\u003ebetter not to be very tall, to wear a long blue cloak, or to beat the\u003cbr\u003eair with your left hand.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOne afternoon in the beginning of October when the traffic was becoming\u003cbr\u003ebrisk a tall man strode along the edge of the pavement with a lady on\u003cbr\u003ehis arm. Angry glances struck upon their backs. The small, agitated\u003cbr\u003efigures--for in comparison with this couple most people looked\u003cbr\u003esmall--decorated with fountain pens, and burdened with despatch-boxes,\u003cbr\u003ehad appointments to keep, and drew a weekly salary, so that there\u003cbr\u003ewas some reason for the unfriendly stare which was bestowed upon Mr.\u003cbr\u003eAmbrose's height and upon Mrs. Ambrose's cloak. But some enchantment had\u003cbr\u003eput both man and woman beyond the reach of malice and unpopularity. In\u003cbr\u003ehis guess one might guess from the moving lips that it was thought; and\u003cbr\u003ein hers from the eyes fixed stonily straight in front of her at a level\u003cbr\u003eabove the eyes of most that it was sorrow. It was only by scorning all\u003cbr\u003eshe met that she kept herself from tears, and the friction of people\u003cbr\u003ebrushing past her was evidently painful. After watching the traffic on\u003cbr\u003ethe Embankment for a minute or two with a stoical gaze she twitched her\u003cbr\u003ehusband's sleeve, and they crossed between the swift discharge of motor\u003cbr\u003ecars. When they were safe on the further side, she gently withdrew her\u003cbr\u003earm from his, allowing her mouth at the same time to relax, to tremble;\u003cbr\u003ethen tears rolled down, and leaning her elbows on the balustrade, she\u003cbr\u003eshielded her face from the curious. Mr. Ambrose attempted consolation;\u003cbr\u003ehe patted her shoulder; but she showed no signs of admitting him, and\u003cbr\u003efeeling it awkward to stand beside a grief that was greater than his, he\u003cbr\u003ecrossed his arms behind him, and took a turn along the pavement.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe embankment juts out in angles here and there, like pulpits; instead\u003cbr\u003eof preachers, however, small boys occupy them, dangling string, dropping\u003cbr\u003epebbles, or launching wads of paper for a cruise. With their sharp eye\u003cbr\u003efor eccentricity, they were inclined to think Mr. Ambrose awful; but\u003cbr\u003ethe quickest witted cried \"Bluebeard!\" as he passed. In case they should\u003cbr\u003eproceed to tease his wife, Mr. Ambrose flourished his stick at them,\u003cbr\u003eupon which they decided that he was grotesque merely, and four instead\u003cbr\u003eof one cried \"Bluebeard!\" in chorus.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAlthough Mrs. Ambrose stood quite still, much longer than is natural,\u003cbr\u003ethe little boys let her be. Some one is always looking into the river\u003cbr\u003enear Waterloo Bridge; a couple will stand there talking for half an hour\u003cbr\u003eon a fine afternoon; most people, walking for pleasure, contemplate for\u003cbr\u003ethree minutes; when, having compared the occasion with other occasions,\u003cbr\u003eor made some sentence, they pass on. Sometimes the flats and churches\u003cbr\u003eand hotels of Westminster are like the outlines of Constantinople in a\u003cbr\u003emist; sometimes the river is an opulent purple, sometimes mud-coloured,\u003cbr\u003esometimes sparkling blue like the sea. It is always worth while to look\u003cbr\u003edown and see what is happening. But this lady looked neither up nor\u003cbr\u003edown; the only thing she had seen, since she stood there, was a circular\u003cbr\u003eiridescent patch slowly floating past with a straw in the middle of it.\u003cbr\u003eThe straw and the patch swam again and again behind the tremulous medium\u003cbr\u003eof a great welling tear, and the tear rose and fell and dropped into the\u003cbr\u003eriver. Then there struck close upon her ears--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e     Lars Porsena of Clusium\u003cbr\u003e     By the nine Gods he swore--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand then more faintly, as if the speaker had passed her on his walk--\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e     That the Great House of Tarquin\u003cbr\u003e     Should suffer wrong no more.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYes, she knew she must go back to all that, but at present she must\u003cbr\u003eweep. Screening her face she sobbed more steadily than she had yet done,\u003cbr\u003eher shoulders rising and falling with great regularity. It was this\u003cbr\u003efigure that her husband saw when, having reached the polished Sphinx,\u003cbr\u003ehaving entangled himself with a man selling picture postcards, he\u003cbr\u003eturned; the stanza instantly stopped. He came up to her, laid his hand\u003cbr\u003eon her shoulder, and said, \"Dearest.\" His voice was supplicating. But\u003cbr\u003eshe shut her face away from him, as much as to say, \"You can't possibly\u003cbr\u003eunderstand.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs he did not leave her, however, she had to wipe her eyes, and to raise\u003cbr\u003ethem to the level of the factory chimneys on the other bank.","brand":"SAP","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47152503816432,"sku":"2940012312587","price":0.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940012312587_p0.jpg?v=1763567344","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940012312587","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}