The White Garden: A Novel Of Virginia Woolf - Plot & Excerpts
HAROLD SAID, STROKING the statue. “Vita would say I prefer Dionysius, but she’s wrong. The Little Virgin’s my pet.”“How did she come here?”“A fellow named Tomas Rosandic carved her for us out of wood. But I had the original cast in lead, some years ago—wood never lasts.” He glanced around. “I’m not happy with her here. The drop in grade means her legs are all but invisible from the gate—and that seems a shame, doesn’t it? A statue should serve to focus the eye, draw the viewer along an axis. This is all wrong.”“She belongs in the White Garden—when you make it.”“Have you seen Delos? Vita’s Attic Wilderness?” He took my hand, and tucked it under his arm. “It’s even more hopeless now there’s nobody to cultivate chaos. Let’s stroll, shall we?”The footing was very bad, and I clung to him. The night, and this familiar stranger; my heart beat quicker. Harold was silent.“How are things at the Ministry?” I asked.“Funny you should ask,” he murmured.
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