Perhaps, then, every one really knew as she knew now where they were going; and things formed themselves into a pattern not only for her, but for them, and in that pattern lay satisfaction and meaning.
When she looked back she could see that a meaning of some kind was apparent in the lives of her aunts, and in the brief visit of the Dalloways whom she would never see again, and in the life of her father.
The sound of Terence, breathing deep in his slumber, confirmed her in her calm.

She was not sleepy although she did not see anything very distinctly, but although the figures passing through the hall became vaguer and vaguer, she believed that they all knew exactly where they were going, and the sense of their certainty filled her with comfort.
For the moment she was as detached and disinterested as if she had no longer any lot in life, and she thought that she could now accept anything that came to her without being perplexed by the form in which it appeared.

What was there to frighten or to perplex in the prospect of life?
Why should this insight ever again desert her?
The world was in truth so large, so hospitable, and after all it was so simple.

"Love," St.John had said, "that seems to explain it all." Yes, but it was not the love of man for woman, of Terence for Rachel.

Although they sat so close together, they had ceased to be little separate bodies; they had ceased to struggle and desire one another.