Nothing is better than when Virginia Woolf gets going on Henry James. (We have played this game before.) This is from a review of a very bad-sounding book of reminiscences of 19th c. novelists by Molly MacCarthy:
'through the drawing-room door we may hear the reverberation of Mr. Henry James, who, seeing the end of his sentence in the distance, with uplifted hand and rumbling fence of sound wards off intruders.' (E 3 444).