Perhaps this is why Peter confesses to admiring the small unit of drilling soldiers: it is their discipline that is admirable. They are symbolic of war and of national greatness, but their real relevance to Peter lies in their quick-stepping, obedient uniformity — their thorough discipline. Their discipline is akin to Clarissa's. They — and Clarissa — follow rules, but Peter's nature refuses to be bridled with absolute obedience. Peter's play-adventure, for example, when he follows the strikingly good-looking woman, is a sample of his impulsive make-up. He has an imaginative bent, as does Clarissa, but Clarissa acts out her adventures within her mind. Peter puts his imagination into action. He is not content merely to dream and muse. He has teased Clarissa more than once for stargazing. True, it does seem a little mad of Peter, over fifty years old, to play at intrigue and follow the woman, but he does it on impulse. And, since this a book about sanity and madness, we might consider whether or not it really shows a touch of madness to disregard common sense and play at shadowing a glamorous, strange woman. Conversely, is it really sane to always follow all the rules, as Clarissa has?
We know that Clarissa is more insecure than anyone suspects. She is able to show a composed facade. But discipline has accomplished this show of strength. In truth, both Peter and Clarissa are dreadfully lonely people, entering old age, and approaching death. Clarissa has already felt the beginning of the end of her mortality but her attitude is the antithesis of Peter's reaction. Death, Clarissa tells herself, will be a time of "Fear no more," a quiet, untroubled rest. She is attempting to reckon with death rationally, as she rationally reckoned with love — and chose Richard Dalloway. She is able to admire the vitality of Peter Walsh and Sally Seton, but she married the conventional, respected Richard Dalloway. Peter is not a rational reckoner. He was unwilling to accept Clarissa's refusal to marry him and he is as equally unwilling to accept old age and the idea of dying. Clarissa's white hair and the sound of time (the iron strokes of Big Ben) weigh heavily, but he is defiant.
