James Wood

At that same party, very glancingly, we see two young, well, we'd call them nowadays Sloanes, basically.

or in American parlance, sort of preppy socialites, Lord Gaten and Nancy Blow.

And we're simply told about Lord Gaten, who's very good with horses, that ponies' mouths quivered at the end of his reins.

And we're told about Nancy Blow, who's expensively dressed in the best, finest new fashions from Paris, that she stands there looking as if her body had merely put forth of its own accord a green frill.

Wolf writes about them.

It's a phrase I want to draw your attention to because I'm going to come back to it later.

Of these two people, Lord Gaten and Nancy Blow, that they would solidify young.

In other words, they're like a lot of people, posh people you might meet at a party party.

They've never really thought about any other existence than the one they are in and the one they're heading towards.

And even at 20 or 24 or however old they are, they seem essentially already to be sort of living on their extensive estate somewhere looking after the dogs and the horses.

They would solidify young people.

Richard Dalloway is caught in this marvellous little description crossing a street in Westminster on his way back to the Dalloway house.

Grey, dogged, dapper, clean.

Grey, dogged, dapper, clean.

And then there's the monstrous society doctor, more famous than Dr. Holmes, though probably no more efficacious than him, also treating Septimus Warren Smith, Sir William Bradshaw.

Sir William Bradshaw, who worships proportion.

We're told about Sir William Bradshaw, that he worships, that he counsels in all things proportion.

Sanity is proportion.

So if you are morbidly depressed, manic depressive, suffering from shell shock, as Septimus Warren Smith is, you must be taught the art of proportion.

proportion, which will probably involve going to a private nursing home for rest and seclusion and, well, more porridge, actually.