blueand
the
rose
globes
of
Ursula’s
lanterns
swaying
softly
cheek
to
cheek
as
Birkin
rowed
,
and
iridescent
,
evanescent
gleams
chasing
in
the
wake
.
He
was
aware
,
too
,
of
his
own
delicately
coloured
lights
casting
their
softness
behind
him
.
Gudrun
rested
her
paddle
and
looked
round
.
The
canoe
lifted
with
the
lightest
ebbing
of
the
water
.
Gerald’s
white
knees
were
very
near
to
her
.
“
Isn’t
it
beautiful
!
”
she
said
softly
,
as
if
reverently
.
She
looked
at
him
,
as
he
leaned
back
against
the
faint
crystal
of
the
lantern-light
.
She
could
see
his
face
,
although
it
was
a
pure
shadow
.
But
it
was
a
piece
of
twilight
.
And
her
breast
was
keen
with
passion
for
him
,
he
was
so
beautiful
in
his
male
stillness
and
mystery
.
It
was
a
certain
pure
effluence
of
maleness
,
like
an
aroma
from
his
softly
,
firmly
moulded
contours
,
a
certain
rich
perfection
of
his
presence
,
that
touched
her
with
an
ecstasy
,
a
thrill
of
pure
intoxication
.
She
loved
to
look
at
him
.
For
the
present
she
did
not
want
to
touch
him
,
to
know
the
further
,
satisfying
substance
of
his
living
body
.
He
was
purely
intangible
,
yet
so
near
.
Her
hands
lay
on
the
paddle
like
slumber
,
she
only
wanted
to
see
him
,
like
a
crystal
shadow
,
to
feel
his
essential
presence
.
“
Yes
,
”
he
said
vaguely
.
“
It
is
very
beautiful
.
”
He
was
listening
to
the
faint
near
sounds
,
the
dropping
of
water-drops
from
the
oar-blades
,
the
slight
drumming
of
the
lanterns
behind
him
,
as
they
rubbed
against
one
another
,
the
occasional
rustling
of
Gudrun’s
full
skirt
,
an
alien
land
noise
.
His
mind
was
almost
submerged
,
he
was
almost
transfused
,
lapsed
out
for
the
first
time
in
his
life
,
into
the
things
about
him
.
For
he
always
kept
such
a
keen
attentiveness
,
concentrated
and
unyielding
in
himself
.
Now
he
had
let
go
,
imperceptibly
he
was
melting
into
oneness
with
the
whole
.
It
was
like
pure
,
perfect
sleep
,
his
first
great
sleep
of
life
.
He
had
been
so
insistent
,
so
guarded
,
all
his
life
.
But
here
was
sleep
,
and
peace
,
and
perfect
lapsing
out
.
“
Shall
I
row
to
the
landing-stage
?
”
asked
Gudrun
wistfully
.
“
Anywhere
,
”
he
answered
.
“
Let
it
drift
.
”
“
Tell
me
then
,
if
we
are
running
into
anything
,
”
she
replied
,
in
that
very
quiet
,
toneless
voice
of
sheer
intimacy
.
“
The
lights
will
show
,
”
he
said
.
So
they
drifted
almost
motionless
,
in
silence
.
He
wanted
silence
,
pure
and
whole
.
But
she
was
uneasy
yet
for
some
word
,
for
some
assurance
.
“
Nobody
will
miss
you
?
”
she
asked
,
anxious
for
some
communication
.
“
Miss
me
?
”
he
echoed
.
“
No
!
Why
?
”
“
I
wondered
if
anybody
would
be
looking
for
you
.
”
“
Why
should
they
look
for
me
?
”
And
then
he
remembered
his
manners
.
“
But
perhaps
you
want
to
get
back
,
”
he
said
,
in
a
changed
voice
.
“
No
,
I
don’t
want
to
get
back
,
”
she
replied
.
“
No
,
I
assure
you
.
”
“
You’re
quite
sure
it’s
all
right
for
you
?
”
“
Perfectly
all
right
.
”
And
again
they
were
still
.
The
launch
twanged
and
hooted
,
somebody
was
singing
.
Then
as
if
the
night
smashed
,
suddenly
there
was
a
great
shout
,
a
confusion
of
shouting
,
warring
on
the
water
,
then
the
horrid
noise
of
paddles
reversed
and
churned
violently
.
Gerald
sat
up
,
and
Gudrun
looked
at
him
in
fear
.
“
Somebody
in
the
water
,
”
he
said
,
angrily
,
and
desperately
,
looking
keenly
across
the
dusk
.
“
Can
you
row
up
?
”
“
Where
,
to
the
launch
?
”
asked
Gudrun
,
in
nervous
panic
.
“
Yes
.
”
“
You’ll
tell
me
if
I
don’t
steer
straight
,
”
she
said
,
in
nervous
apprehension
.
“
You
keep
pretty
level
,
”
he
said
,
and
the
canoe
hastened
forward
.
The
shouting
and
the
noise
continued
,
sounding
horrid
through
the
dusk
,
over
the
surface
of
the
water
.
“
Wasn’t
this
bound
to
happen
?
”
said
Gudrun
,
with
heavy
hateful
irony
.
But
he
hardly
heard
,
and
she
glanced
over
her
shoulder
to
see
her
way
.
The
half-dark
waters
were
sprinkled
with
lovely
bubbles
of
swaying
lights
,
the
launch
did
not
look
far
off
.
She
was
rocking
her
lights
in
the
early
night
.
Gudrun
rowed
as
hard
as
she
could
.
But
now
that
it
was
a
serious
matter
,
she
seemed
uncertain
and
clumsy
in
her
stroke
,
it
was
difficult
to
paddle
swiftly
.
She
glanced
at
his
face
.
He
was
looking
fixedly
into
the
darkness
,
very
keen
and
alert
and
single
in
himself
,
instrumental
.
Her
heart
sank
,
she
seemed
to
die
a
death
.
“
Of
course
,
”
she
said
to
herself
,
“
nobody
will
be
drowned
.
Of
course
they
won’t
.
It
would
be
too
extravagant
and
sensational
.
”
But
her
heart
was
cold
,
because
of
his
sharp
impersonal
face
.
It
was
as
if
he
belonged
naturally
to
dread
and
catastrophe
,
as
if
he
were
himself
again
.
Then
there
came
a
child’s
voice
,
a
girl’s
high
,
piercing
shriek
:
“
Di
—
Di
—
Di
—
Di
—
Oh
Di
—
Oh
Di
—
Oh
Di
!
”
The
blood
ran
cold
in
Gudrun’s
veins
.
“
It’s
Diana
,
is
it
,
”
muttered
Gerald
.
“
The
young
monkey
,
she’d
have
to
be
up
to
some
of
her
tricks
.
”
And
he
glanced
again
at
the
paddle
,
the
boat
was
not
going
quickly
enough
for
him
.
It
made
Gudrun
almost
helpless
at
the
rowing
,
this
nervous
stress
.
She
kept
up
with
all
her
might
.
Still
the
voices
were
calling
and
answering
.
“
Where
,
where
?
There
you
are
—
that’s
it
.
Which
?
No
—
No-o-o
.
Damn
it
all
,
here
,
here
—
”
Boats
were
hurrying
from
all
directions
to
the
scene
,
coloured
lanterns
could
be
seen
waving
close
to
the
surface
of
the
lake
,
reflections
swaying
after
them
in
uneven
haste
.
The
steamer
hooted
again
,
for
some
unknown
reason
.
Gudrun’s
boat
was
travelling
quickly
,
the
lanterns
were
swinging
behind
Gerald
.
And
then
again
came
the
child’s
high
,
screaming
voice
,
with
a
note
of
weeping
and
impatience
in
it
now
:
“
Di
—
Oh
Di
—
Oh
Di
—
Di
—
!
”
It
was
a
terrible
sound
,
coming
through
the
obscure
air
of
the
evening
.
“
You’d
be
better
if
you
were
in
bed
,
Winnie
,
”
Gerald
muttered
to
himself
.
He
was
stooping
unlacing
his
shoes
,
pushing
them
off
with
the
foot
.
Then
he
threw
his
soft
hat
into
the
bottom
of
the
boat
.
“
You
can’t
go
into
the
water
with
your
hurt
hand
,
”
said
Gudrun
,
panting
,
in
a
low
voice
of
horror
.
“
What
?
It
won’t
hurt
.
”
He
had
struggled
out
of
his
jacket
,
and
had
dropped
it
between
his
feet
.
He
sat
bare-headed
,
all
in
white
now
.
He
felt
the
belt
at
his
waist
.
They
were
nearing
the
launch
,
which
stood
still
big
above
them
,
her
myriad
lamps
making
lovely
darts
,
and
sinuous
running
tongues
of
ugly
red
and
green
and
yellow
light
on
the
lustrous
dark
water
,
under
the
shadow
.
“
Oh
get
her
out
!
Oh
Di
,
darling
!
Oh
get
her
out
!
Oh
Daddy
,
Oh
Daddy
!
”
moaned
the
child’s
voice
,
in
distraction
.
Somebody
was
in
the
water
,
with
a
life
belt
.
Two
boats
paddled
near
,
their
lanterns
swinging
ineffectually
,
the
boats
nosing
round
.
“
Hi
there
—
Rockley
!
—
hi
there
!
”
“
Mr
Gerald
!
”
came
the
captain’s
terrified
voice
.
“
Miss
Diana’s
in
the
water
.
”
“
Anybody
gone
in
for
her
?
”
came
Gerald’s
sharp
voice
.
“
Young
Doctor
Brindell
,
sir
.
”
“
Where
?
”
“
Can’t
see
no
signs
of
them
,
sir
.
Everybody’s
looking
,
but
there’s
nothing
so
far
.
”
There
was
a
moment’s
ominous
pause
.
“
Where
did
she
go
in
?
”
“
I
think
—
about
where
that
boat
is
,
”
came
the
uncertain
answer
,
“
that
one
with
red
and
green
lights
.
”
“
Row
there
,
”
said
Gerald
quietly
to
Gudrun
.
“
Get
her
out
,
Gerald
,
oh
get
her
out
,
”
the
child’s
voice
was
crying
anxiously
.
He
took
no
heed
.
“
Lean
back
that
way
,
”
said
Gerald
to
Gudrun
,
as
he
stood
up
in
the
frail
boat
.
“
She
won’t
upset
.
”
In
another
moment
,
he
had
dropped
clean
down
,
soft
and
plumb
,
into
the
water
.
Gudrun
was
swaying
violently
in
her
boat
,
the
agitated
water
shook
with
transient
lights
,
she
realised
that
it
was
faintly
moonlight
,
and
that
he
was
gone
.
So
it
was
possible
to
be
gone
.
A
terrible
sense
of
fatality
robbed
her
of
all
feeling
and
thought
.
She
knew
he
was
gone
out
of
the
world
,
there
was
merely
the
same
world
,
and
absence
,
his
absence
.
The
night
seemed
large
and
vacuous
.
Lanterns
swayed
here
and
there
,
people
were
talking
in
an
undertone
on
the
launch
and
in
the
boats
.
She
could
hear
Winifred
moaning
:
“
Oh
do
find
her
Gerald
,
do
find
her
,
”
and
someone
trying
to
comfort
the
child
.
Gudrun
paddled
aimlessly
here
and
there
.
The
terrible
,
massive
,
cold
,
boundless
surface
of
the
water
terrified
her
beyond
words
.
Would
he
never
come
back
?
She
felt
she
must
jump
into
the
water
too
,
to
know
the
horror
also
.
She
started
,
hearing
someone
say
:
“
There
he
is
.
”
She
saw
the
movement
of
his
swimming
,
like
a
water-rat
.
And
she
rowed
involuntarily
to
him
.
But
he
was
near
another
boat
,
a
bigger
one
.
Still
she
rowed
towards
him
.
She
must
be
very
near
.
She
saw
him
—
he
looked
like
a
seal
.
He
looked
like
a
seal
as
he
took
hold
of
the
side
of
the
boat
.
His
fair
hair
was
washed
down
on
his
round
head
,
his
face
seemed
to
glisten
suavely
.
She
could
hear
him
panting
.
Then
he
clambered
into
the
boat
.
Oh
,
and
the
beauty
of
the
subjection
of
his
loins
,
white
and
dimly
luminous
as
he
climbed
over
the
side
of
the
boat
,
made
her
want
to
die
,
to
die
.
The
beauty
of
his
dim
and
luminous
loins
as
he
climbed
into
the
boat
,
his
back
rounded
and
soft
—
ah
,
this
was
too
much
for
her
,
too
final
a
vision
.
She
knew
it
,
and
it
was
fatal
.
The
terrible
hopelessness
of
fate
,
and
of
beauty
,
such
beauty
!
He
was
not
like
a
man
to
her
,
he
was
an
incarnation
,
a
great
phase
of
life
.
She
saw
him
press
the
water
out
of
his
face
,
and
look
at
the
bandage
on
his
hand
.
And
she
knew
it
was
all
no
good
,
and
that
she
would
never
go
beyond
him
,
he
was
the
final
approximation
of
life
to
her
.
“
Put
the
lights
out
,
we
shall
see
better
,
”
came
his
voice
,
sudden
and
mechanical
and
belonging
to
the
world
of
man
.
She
could
scarcely
believe
there
was
a
world
of
man
.
She
leaned
round
and
blew
out
her
lanterns
.
They
were
difficult
to
blow
out
.
Everywhere
the
lights
were
gone
save
the
coloured
points
on
the
sides
of
the
launch
.
The
bluey-grey
,
early
night
spread
level
around
,
the
moon
was
overhead
,
there
were
shadows
of
boats
here
and
there
.
Again
there
was
a
splash
,
and
he
was
gone
under
.
Gudrun
sat
,
sick
at
heart
,
frightened
of
the
great
,
level
surface
of
the
water
,
so
heavy
and
deadly
.
She
was
so
alone
,
with
the
level
,
unliving
field
of
the
water
stretching
beneath
her
.
It
was
not
a
good
isolation
,
it
was
a
terrible
,
cold
separation
of
suspense
.
She
was
suspended
upon
the
surface
of
the
insidious
reality
until
such
time
as
she
also
should
disappear
beneath
it
.
Then
she
knew
,
by
a
stirring
of
voices
,
that
he
had
climbed
out
again
,
into
a
boat
.
She
sat
wanting
connection
with
him
.
Strenuously
she
claimed
her
connection
with
him
,
across
the
invisible
space
of
the
water
.
But
round
her
heart
was
an
isolation
unbearable
,
through
which
nothing
would
penetrate
.
“
Take
the
launch
in
.
It’s
no
use
keeping
her
there
.
Get
lines
for
the
dragging
,
”
came
the
decisive
,
instrumental
voice
,
that
was
full
of
the
sound
of
the
world
.
The
launch
began
gradually
to
beat
the
waters
.
“
Gerald
!
Gerald
!
”
came
the
wild
crying
voice
of
Winifred
.
He
did
not
answer
.
Slowly
the
launch
drifted
round
in
a
pathetic
,
clumsy
circle
,
and
slunk
away
to
the
land
,
retreating
into
the
dimness
.
The
wash
of
her
paddles
grew
duller
.
Gudrun
rocked
in
her
light
boat
,
and
dipped
the
paddle
automatically
to
steady
herself
.
“
Gudrun
?
”
called
Ursula’s
voice
.
“
Ursula
!
”
The
boats
of
the
two
sisters
pulled
together
.
“
Where
is
Gerald
?
”
said
Gudrun
.
“
He’s
dived
again
,
”
said
Ursula
plaintively
.
“
And
I
know
he
ought
not
,
with
his
hurt
hand
and
everything
.
”
“
I’ll
take
him
in
home
this
time
,
”
said
Birkin
.
The
boats
swayed
again
from
the
wash
of
steamer
.
Gudrun
and
Ursula
kept
a
look-out
for
Gerald
.
“
There
he
is
!
”
cried
Ursula
,
who
had
the
sharpest
eyes
.
He
had
not
been
long
under
.
Birkin
pulled
towards
him
,
Gudrun
following
.
He
swam
slowly
,
and
caught
hold
of
the
boat
with
his
wounded
hand
.
It
slipped
,
and
he
sank
back
.
“
Why
don’t
you
help
him
?
”
cried
Ursula
sharply
.
He
came
again
,
and
Birkin
leaned
to
help
him
in
to
the
boat
.
Gudrun
again
watched
Gerald
climb
out
of
the
water
,
but
this
time
slowly
,
heavily
,
with
the
blind
clambering
motions
of
an
amphibious
beast
,
clumsy
.
Again
the
moon
shone
with
faint
luminosity
on
his
white
wet
figure
,
on
the
stooping
back
and
the
rounded
loins
.
But
it
looked
defeated
now
,
his
body
,
it
clambered
and
fell
with
slow
clumsiness
.
He
was
breathing
hoarsely
too
,
like
an
animal
that
is
suffering
.
He
sat
slack
and
motionless
in
the
boat
,
his
head
blunt
and
blind
like
a
seal’s
,
his
whole
appearance
inhuman
,
unknowing
.
Gudrun
shuddered
as
she
mechanically
followed
his
boat
.
Birkin
rowed
without
speaking
to
the
landing-stage
.
“
Where
are
you
going
?
”
Gerald
asked
suddenly
,
as
if
just
waking
up
.
“
Home
,
”
said
Birkin
.
“
Oh
no
!
”
said
Gerald
imperiously
.
“
We
can’t
go
home
while
they’re
in
the
water
.
Turn
back
again
,
I’m
going
to
find
them
.
”
The
women
were
frightened
,
his
voice
was
so
imperative
and
dangerous
,
almost
mad
,
not
to
be
opposed
.
“
No
!
”
said
Birkin
.
“
You
can’t
.
”
There
was
a
strange
fluid
compulsion
in
his
voice
.
Gerald
was
silent
in
a
battle
of
wills
.
It
was
as
if
he
would
kill
the
other
man
.
But
Birkin
rowed
evenly
and
unswerving
,
with
an
inhuman
inevitability
.
“
Why
should
you
interfere
?
”
said
Gerald
,
in
hate
.
Birkin
did
not
answer
.
He
rowed
towards
the
land
.
And
Gerald
sat
mute
,
like
a
dumb
beast
,
panting
,
his
teeth
chattering
,
his
arms
inert
,
his
head
like
a
seal’s
head
.
They
came
to
the
landing-stage
.
Wet
and
naked-looking
,
Gerald
climbed
up
the
few
steps
.
There
stood
his
father
,
in
the
night
.
“
Father
!
”
he
said
.
“
Yes
my
boy
?
Go
home
and
get
those
things
off
.
”
“
We
shan’t
save
them
,
father
,
”
said
Gerald
.
“
There’s
hope
yet
,
my
boy
.
”
“
I’m
afraid
not
.
There’s
no
knowing
where
they
are
.
You
can’t
find
them
.
And
there’s
a
current
,
as
cold
as
hell
.
”
“
We’ll
let
the
water
out
,
”
said
the
father
.
“
Go
home
you
and
look
to
yourself
.
See
that
he’s
looked
after
,
Rupert
,
”
he
added
in
a
neutral
voice
.
“
Well
father
,
I’m
sorry
.
I’m
sorry
.
I’m
afraid
it’s
my
fault
.
But
it
can’t
be
helped
;
I’ve
done
what
I
could
for
the
moment
.
I
could
go
on
diving
,
of
course
—
not
much
,
though
—
and
not
much
use
—
”
He
moved
away
barefoot
,
on
the
planks
of
the
platform
.
Then
he
trod
on
something
sharp
.
“
Of
course
,
you’ve
got
no
shoes
on
,
”
said
Birkin
.
“
His
shoes
are
here
!
”
cried
Gudrun
from
below
.
She
was
making
fast
her
boat
.
Gerald
waited
for
them
to
be
brought
to
him
.
Gudrun
came
with
them
.
He
pulled
them
on
his
feet
.
“
If
you
once
die
,
”
he
said
,
“
then
when
it’s
over
,
it’s
finished
.
Why
come
to
life
again
?
There’s
room
under
that
water
there
for
thousands
.
”
“
Two
is
enough
,
”
she
said
murmuring
.
He
dragged
on
his
second
shoe
.
He
was
shivering
violently
,
and
his
jaw
shook
as
he
spoke
.
“
That’s
true
,
”
he
said
,
“
maybe
.
But
it’s
curious
how
much
room
there
seems
,
a
whole
universe
under
there
;
and
as
cold
as
hell
,
you’re
as
helpless
as
if
your
head
was
cut
off
.
”
He
could
scarcely
speak
,
he
shook
so
violently
.
“
There’s
one
thing
about
our
family
,
you
know
,
”
he
continued
.
“
Once
anything
goes
wrong
,
it
can
never
be
put
right
again
—
not
with
us
.
I’ve
noticed
it
all
my
life
—
you
can’t
put
a
thing
right
,
once
it
has
gone
wrong
.
”
They
were
walking
across
the
high-road
to
the
house
.
“
And
do
you
know
,
when
you
are
down
there
,
it
is
so
cold
,
actually
,
and
so
endless
,
so
different
really
from
what
it
is
on
top
,
so
endless
—
you
wonder
how
it
is
so
many
are
alive
,
why
we’re
up
here
.
Are
you
going
?
I
shall
see
you
again
,
shan’t
I
?
Good-night
,
and
thank
you
.
Thank
you
very
much
!
”
The
two
girls
waited
a
while
,
to
see
if
there
were
any
hope
.
The
moon
shone
clearly
overhead
,
with
almost
impertinent
brightness
,
the
small
dark
boats
clustered
on
the
water
,
there
were
voices
and
subdued
shouts
.
But
it
was
all
to
no
purpose
.
Gudrun
went
home
when
Birkin
returned
.
He
was
commissioned
to
open
the
sluice
that
let
out
the
water
from
the
lake
,
which
was
pierced
at
one
end
,
near
the
high-road
,
thus
serving
as
a
reservoir
to
supply
with
water
the
distant
mines
,
in
case
of
necessity
.
“
Come
with
me
,
”
he
said
to
Ursula
,
“
and
then
I
will
walk
home
with
you
,
when
I’ve
done
this
.
”
He
called
at
the
water-keeper’s
cottage
and
took
the
key
of
the
sluice
.
They
went
through
a
little
gate
from
the
high-road
,
to
the
head
of
the
water
,
where
was
a
great
stone
basin
which
received
the
overflow
,
and
a
flight
of
stone
steps
descended
into
the
depths
of
the
water
itself
.
At
the
head
of
the
steps
was
the
lock
of
the
sluice-gate
.
The
night
was
silver-grey
and
perfect
,
save
for
the
scattered
restless
sound
of
voices
.
The
grey
sheen
of
the
moonlight
caught
the
stretch
of
water
,
dark
boats
plashed
and
moved
.
But
Ursula’s
mind
ceased
to
be
receptive
,
everything
was
unimportant
and
unreal
.
Birkin
fixed
the
iron
handle
of
the
sluice
,
and
turned
it
with
a
wrench
.
The
cogs
began
slowly
to
rise
.
He
turned
and
turned
,
like
a
slave
,
his
white
figure
became
distinct
.
Ursula
looked
away
.
She
could
not
bear
to
see
him
winding
heavily
and
laboriously
,
bending
and
rising
mechanically
like
a
slave
,
turning
the
handle
.
Then
,
a
real
shock
to
her
,
there
came
a
loud
splashing
of
water
from
out
of
the
dark
,
tree-filled
hollow
beyond
the
road
,
a
splashing
that
deepened
rapidly
to
a
harsh
roar
,
and
then
became
a
heavy
,
booming
noise
of
a
great
body
of
water
falling
solidly
all
the
time
.
It
occupied
the
whole
of
the
night
,
this
great
steady
booming
of
water
,
everything
was
drowned
within
it
,
drowned
and
lost
.
Ursula
seemed
to
have
to
struggle
for
her
life
.
She
put
her
hands
over
her
ears
,
and
looked
at
the
high
bland
moon
.
“
Can’t
we
go
now
?
”
she
cried
to
Birkin
,
who
was
watching
the
water
on
the
steps
,
to
see
if
it
would
get
any
lower
.
It
seemed
to
fascinate
him
.
He
looked
at
her
and
nodded
.
The
little
dark
boats
had
moved
nearer
,
people
were
crowding
curiously
along
the
hedge
by
the
high-road
,
to
see
what
was
to
be
seen
.
Birkin
and
Ursula
went
to
the
cottage
with
the
key
,
then
turned
their
backs
on
the
lake
.
She
was
in
great
haste
.
She
could
not
bear
the
terrible
crushing
boom
of
the
escaping
water
.
“
Do
you
think
they
are
dead
?
”
she
cried
in
a
high
voice
,
to
make
herself
heard
.
“
Yes
,
”
he
replied
.
“
Isn’t
it
horrible
!
”
He
paid
no
heed
.
They
walked
up
the
hill
,
further
and
further
away
from
the
noise
.
“
Do
you
mind
very
much
?
”
she
asked
him
.
“
I
don’t
mind
about
the
dead
,
”
he
said
,
“
once
they
are
dead
.
The
worst
of
it
is
,
they
cling
on
to
the
living
,
and
won’t
let
go
.
”
She
pondered
for
a
time
.
“
Yes
,
”
she
said
.
“
The
fact
of
death
doesn’t
really
seem
to
matter
much
,
does
it
?
”
“
No
,
”
he
said
.
“
What
does
it
matter
if
Diana
Crich
is
alive
or
dead
?
”
“
Doesn’t
it
?
”
she
said
,
shocked
.
“
No
,
why
should
it
?
Better
she
were
dead
—
she’ll
be
much
more
real
.
She’ll
be
positive
in
death
.
In
life
she
was
a
fretting
,
negated
thing
.
”
“
You
are
rather
horrible
,
”
murmured
Ursula
.
“
No
!
I’d
rather
Diana
Crich
were
dead
.
Her
living
somehow
,
was
all
wrong
.
As
for
the
young
man
,
poor
devil
—
he’ll
find
his
way
out
quickly
instead
of
slowly
.
Death
is
all
right
—
nothing
better
.
”
“
Yet
you
don’t
want
to
die
,
”
she
challenged
him
.
He
was
silent
for
a
time
.
Then
he
said
,
in
a
voice
that
was
frightening
to
her
in
its
change
:
“
I
should
like
to
be
through
with
it
—
I
should
like
to
be
through
with
the
death
process
.
”
“
And
aren’t
you
?
”
asked
Ursula
nervously
.
They
walked
on
for
some
way
in
silence
,
under
the
trees
.
Then
he
said
,
slowly
,
as
if
afraid
:
“
There
is
life
which
belongs
to
death
,
and
there
is
life
which
isn’t
death
.
One
is
tired
of
the
life
that
belongs
to
death
—
our
kind
of
life
.
But
whether
it
is
finished
,
God
knows
.
I
want
love
that
is
like
sleep
,
like
being
born
again
,
vulnerable
as
a
baby
that
just
comes
into
the
world
.
”
Ursula
listened
,
half
attentive
,
half
avoiding
what
he
said
.
She
seemed
to
catch
the
drift
of
his
statement
,
and
then
she
drew
away
.
She
wanted
to
hear
,
but
she
did
not
want
to
be
implicated
.
She
was
reluctant
to
yield
there
,
where
he
wanted
her
,
to
yield
as
it
were
her
very
identity
.
“
Why
should
love
be
like
sleep
?
”
she
asked
sadly
.
“
I
don’t
know
.
So
that
it
is
like
death
—
I
do
want
to
die
from
this
life
—
and
yet
it
is
more
than
life
itself
.
One
is
delivered
over
like
a
naked
infant
from
the
womb
,
all
the
old
defences
and
the
old
body
gone
,
and
new
air
around
one
,
that
has
never
been
breathed
before
.
”
She
listened
,
making
out
what
he
said
.
She
knew
,
as
well
as
he
knew
,
that
words
themselves
do
not
convey
meaning
,
that
they
are
but
a
gesture
we
make
,
a
dumb
show
like
any
other
.
And
she
seemed
to
feel
his
gesture
through
her
blood
,
and
she
drew
back
,
even
though
her
desire
sent
her
forward
.
“
But
,
”
she
said
gravely
,
“
didn’t
you
say
you
wanted
something
that
was
not
love
—
something
beyond
love
?
”
He
turned
in
confusion
.
There
was
always
confusion
in
speech
.
Yet
it
must
be
spoken
.
Whichever
way
one
moved
,
if
one
were
to
move
forwards
,
one
must
break
a
way
through
.
And
to
know
,
to
give
utterance
,
was
to
break
a
way
through
the
walls
of
the
prison
as
the
infant
in
labour
strives
through
the
walls
of
the
womb
.
There
is
no
new
movement
now
,
without
the
breaking
through
of
the
old
body
,
deliberately
,
in
knowledge
,
in
the
struggle
to
get
out
.
“
I
don’t
want
love
,
”
he
said
.
“
I
don’t
want
to
know
you
.
I
want
to
be
gone
out
of
myself
,
and
you
to
be
lost
to
yourself
,
so
we
are
found
different
.
One
shouldn’t
talk
when
one
is
tired
and
wretched
.
One
Hamletises
,
and
it
seems
a
lie
.
Only
believe
me
when
I
show
you
a
bit
of
healthy
pride
and
insouciance
.
I
hate
myself
serious
.
”
“
Why
shouldn’t
you
be
serious
?
”
she
said
.
He
thought
for
a
minute
,
then
he
said
,
sulkily
:
“
I
don’t
know
.
”
Then
they
walked
on
in
silence
,
at
outs
.
He
was
vague
and
lost
.
“
Isn’t
it
strange
,
”
she
said
,
suddenly
putting
her
hand
on
his
arm
,
with
a
loving
impulse
,
“
how
we
always
talk
like
this
!
I
suppose
we
do
love
each
other
,
in
some
way
.
”
“
Oh
yes
,
”
he
said
;
“
too
much
.
”
She
laughed
almost
gaily
.
“
You’d
have
to
have
it
your
own
way
,
wouldn’t
you
?
”
she
teased
.
“
You
could
never
take
it
on
trust
.
”
He
changed
,
laughed
softly
,
and
turned
and
took
her
in
his
arms
,
in
the
middle
of
the
road
.
“
Yes
,
”
he
said
softly
.
And
he
kissed
her
face
and
brow
,
slowly
,
gently
,
with
a
sort
of
delicate
happiness
which
surprised
her
extremely
,
and
to
which
she
could
not
respond
.
They
were
soft
,
blind
kisses
,
perfect
in
their
stillness
.
Yet
she
held
back
from
them
.
It
was
like
strange
moths
,
very
soft
and
silent
,
settling
on
her
from
the
darkness
of
her
soul
.
She
was
uneasy
.
She
drew
away
.
“
Isn’t
somebody
coming
?
”
she
said
.
So
they
looked
down
the
dark
road
,
then
set
off
again
walking
towards
Beldover
.
Then
suddenly
,
to
show
him
she
was
no
shallow
prude
,
she
stopped
and
held
him
tight
,
hard
against
her
,
and
covered
his
face
with
hard
,
fierce
kisses
of
passion
.
In
spite
of
his
otherness
,
the
old
blood
beat
up
in
him
.
“
Not
this
,
not
this
,
”
he
whimpered
to
himself
,
as
the
first
perfect
mood
of
softness
and
sleep-loveliness
ebbed
back
away
from
the
rushing
of
passion
that
came
up
to
his
limbs
and
over
his
face
as
she
drew
him
.
And
soon
he
was
a
perfect
hard
flame
of
passionate
desire
for
her
.
Yet
in
the
small
core
of
the
flame
was
an
unyielding
anguish
of
another
thing
.
But
this
also
was
lost
;
he
only
wanted
her
,
with
an
extreme
desire
that
seemed
inevitable
as
death
,
beyond
question
.
Then
,
satisfied
and
shattered
,
fulfilled
and
destroyed
,
he
went
home
away
from
her
,
drifting
vaguely
through
the
darkness
,
lapsed
into
the
old
fire
of
burning
passion
.
Far
away
,
far
away
,
there
seemed
to
be
a
small
lament
in
the
darkness
.
But
what
did
it
matter
?
What
did
it
matter
,
what
did
anything
matter
save
this
ultimate
and
triumphant
experience
of
physical
passion
,
that
had
blazed
up
anew
like
a
new
spell
of
life
.
“
I
was
becoming
quite
dead-alive
,
nothing
but
a
word-bag
,
”
he
said
in
triumph
,
scorning
his
other
self
.
Yet
somewhere
far
off
and
small
,
the
other
hovered
.
The
men
were
still
dragging
the
lake
when
he
got
back
.
He
stood
on
the
bank
and
heard
Gerald’s
voice
.
The
water
was
still
booming
in
the
night
,
the
moon
was
fair
,
the
hills
beyond
were
elusive
.
The
lake
was
sinking
.
There
came
the
raw
smell
of
the
banks
,
in
the
night
air
.
Up
at
Shortlands
there
were
lights
in
the
windows
,
as
if
nobody
had
gone
to
bed
.
On
the
landing-stage
was
the
old
doctor
,
the
father
of
the
young
man
who
was
lost
.
He
stood
quite
silent
,
waiting
.
Birkin
also
stood
and
watched
,
Gerald
came
up
in
a
boat
.
“
You
still
here
,
Rupert
?
”
he
said
.
“
We
can’t
get
them
.
The
bottom
slopes
,
you
know
,
very
steep
.
The
water
lies
between
two
very
sharp
slopes
,
with
little
branch
valleys
,
and
God
knows
where
the
drift
will
take
you
.
It
isn’t
as
if
it
was
a
level
bottom
.
You
never
know
where
you
are
,
with
the
dragging
.
”
“
Is
there
any
need
for
you
to
be
working
?
”
said
Birkin
.
“
Wouldn’t
it
be
much
better
if
you
went
to
bed
?
”
“
To
bed
!
Good
God
,
do
you
think
I
should
sleep
?
We’ll
find
’em
,
before
I
go
away
from
here
.
”
“
But
the
men
would
find
them
just
the
same
without
you
—
why
should
you
insist
?
”
Gerald
looked
up
at
him
.
Then
he
put
his
hand
affectionately
on
Birkin’s
shoulder
,
saying
:
“
Don’t
you
bother
about
me
,
Rupert
.
If
there’s
anybody’s
health
to
think
about
,
it’s
yours
,
not
mine
.
How
do
you
feel
yourself
?
”
“
Very
well
.
But
you
,
you
spoil
your
own
chance
of
life
—
you
waste
your
best
self
.
”
Gerald
was
silent
for
a
moment
.
Then
he
said
:
“
Waste
it
?
What
else
is
there
to
do
with
it
?
”
“
But
leave
this
,
won’t
you
?
You
force
yourself
into
horrors
,
and
put
a
mill-stone
of
beastly
memories
round
your
neck
.
Come
away
now
.
”
“
A
mill-stone
of
beastly
memories
!
”
Gerald
repeated
.
Then
he
put
his
hand
again
affectionately
on
Birkin’s
shoulder
.
“
God
,
you’ve
got
such
a
telling
way
of
putting
things
,
Rupert
,
you
have
.
”
Birkin’s
heart
sank
.
He
was
irritated
and
weary
of
having
a
telling
way
of
putting
things
.
“
Won’t
you
leave
it
?
Come
over
to
my
place
”
—
he
urged
as
one
urges
a
drunken
man
.
“
No
,
”
said
Gerald
coaxingly
,
his
arm
across
the
other
man’s
shoulder
.
“
Thanks
very
much
,
Rupert
—
I
shall
be
glad
to
come
tomorrow
,
if
that’ll
do
.
You
understand
,
don’t
you
?
I
want
to
see
this
job
through
.
But
I’ll
come
tomorrow
,
right
enough
.
Oh
,
I’d
rather
come
and
have
a
chat
with
you
than
—
than
do
anything
else
,
I
verily
believe
.
Yes
,
I
would
.
You
mean
a
lot
to
me
,
Rupert
,
more
than
you
know
.
”
“
What
do
I
mean
,
more
than
I
know
?
”
asked
Birkin
irritably
.
He
was
acutely
aware
of
Gerald’s
hand
on
his
shoulder
.
And
he
did
not
want
this
altercation
.
He
wanted
the
other
man
to
come
out
of
the
ugly
misery
.
“
I’ll
tell
you
another
time
,
”
said
Gerald
coaxingly
.
“
Come
along
with
me
now
—
I
want
you
to
come
,
”
said
Birkin
.
There
was
a
pause
,
intense
and
real
.
Birkin
wondered
why
his
own
heart
beat
so
heavily
.
Then
Gerald’s
fingers
gripped
hard
and
communicative
into
Birkin’s
shoulder
,
as
he
said
:
“
No
,
I’ll
see
this
job
through
,
Rupert
.
Thank
you
—
I
know
what
you
mean
.
We’re
all
right
,
you
know
,
you
and
me
.
”
“
I
may
be
all
right
,
but
I’m
sure
you’re
not
,
mucking
about
here
,
”
said
Birkin
.
And
he
went
away
.
The
bodies
of
the
dead
were
not
recovered
till
towards
dawn
.
Diana
had
her
arms
tight
round
the
neck
of
the
young
man
,
choking
him
.
“
She
killed
him
,
”
said
Gerald
.
The
moon
sloped
down
the
sky
and
sank
at
last
.
The
lake
was
sunk
to
quarter
size
,
it
had
horrible
raw
banks
of
clay
,
that
smelled
of
raw
rottenish
water
.
Dawn
roused
faintly
behind
the
eastern
hill
.
The
water
still
boomed
through
the
sluice
.
As
the
birds
were
whistling
for
the
first
morning
,
and
the
hills
at
the
back
of
the
desolate
lake
stood
radiant
with
the
new
mists
,
there
was
a
straggling
procession
up
to
Shortlands
,
men
bearing
the
bodies
on
a
stretcher
,
Gerald
going
beside
them
,
the
two
grey-bearded
fathers
following
in
silence
.
Indoors
the
family
was
all
sitting
up
,
waiting
.
Somebody
must
go
to
tell
the
mother
,
in
her
room
.
The
doctor
in
secret
struggled
to
bring
back
his
son
,
till
he
himself
was
exhausted
.
Over
all
the
outlying
district
was
a
hush
of
dreadful
excitement
on
that
Sunday
morning
.
The
colliery
people
felt
as
if
this
catastrophe
had
happened
directly
to
themselves
,
indeed
they
were
more
shocked
and
frightened
than
if
their
own
men
had
been
killed
.
Such
a
tragedy
in
Shortlands
,
the
high
home
of
the
district
!
One
of
the
young
mistresses
,
persisting
in
dancing
on
the
cabin
roof
of
the
launch
,
wilful
young
madam
,
drowned
in
the
midst
of
the
festival
,
with
the
young
doctor
!
Everywhere
on
the
Sunday
morning
,
the
colliers
wandered
about
,
discussing
the
calamity
.
At
all
the
Sunday
dinners
of
the
people
,
there
seemed
a
strange
presence
.
It
was
as
if
the
angel
of
death
were
very
near
,
there
was
a
sense
of
the
supernatural
in
the
air
.
The
men
had
excited
,
startled
faces
,
the
women
looked
solemn
,
some
of
them
had
been
crying
.
The
children
enjoyed
the
excitement
at
first
.
There
was
an
intensity
in
the
air
,
almost
magical
.
Did
all
enjoy
it
?
Did
all
enjoy
the
thrill
?
Gudrun
had
wild
ideas
of
rushing
to
comfort
Gerald
.
She
was
thinking
all
the
time
of
the
perfect
comforting
,
reassuring
thing
to
say
to
him
.
She
was
shocked
and
frightened
,
but
she
put
that
away
,
thinking
of
how
she
should
deport
herself
with
Gerald
:
act
her
part
.
That
was
the
real
thrill
:
how
she
should
act
her
part
.
Ursula
was
deeply
and
passionately
in
love
with
Birkin
,
and
she
was
capable
of
nothing
.
She
was
perfectly
callous
about
all
the
talk
of
the
accident
,
but
her
estranged
air
looked
like
trouble
.
She
merely
sat
by
herself
,
whenever
she
could
,
and
longed
to
see
him
again
.
She
wanted
him
to
come
to
the
house
,
—
she
would
not
have
it
otherwise
,
he
must
come
at
once
.
She
was
waiting
for
him
.
She
stayed
indoors
all
day
,
waiting
for
him
to
knock
at
the
door
.
Every
minute
,
she
glanced
automatically
at
the
window
.
He
would
be
there
.
CHAPTER
XV
.
SUNDAY
EVENING
As
the
day
wore
on
,
the
life-blood
seemed
to
ebb
away
from
Ursula
,
and
within
the
emptiness
a
heavy
despair
gathered
.
Her
passion
seemed
to
bleed
to
death
,
and
there
was
nothing
.
She
sat
suspended
in
a
state
of
complete
nullity
,
harder
to
bear
than
death
.
“
Unless
something
happens
,
”
she
said
to
herself
,
in
the
perfect
lucidity
of
final
suffering
,
“
I
shall
die
.
I
am
at
the
end
of
my
line
of
life
.
”
She
sat
crushed
and
obliterated
in
a
darkness
that
was
the
border
of
death
.
She
realised
how
all
her
life
she
had
been
drawing
nearer
and
nearer
to
this
brink
,
where
there
was
no
beyond
,
from
which
one
had
to
leap
like
Sappho
into
the
unknown
.
The
knowledge
of
the
imminence
of
death
was
like
a
drug
.
Darkly
,
without
thinking
at
all
,
she
knew
that
she
was
near
to
death
.
She
had
travelled
all
her
life
along
the
line
of
fulfilment
,
and
it
was
nearly
concluded
.
She
knew
all
she
had
to
know
,
she
had
experienced
all
she
had
to
experience
,
she
was
fulfilled
in
a
kind
of
bitter
ripeness
,
there
remained
only
to
fall
from
the
tree
into
death
.
And
one
must
fulfil
one’s
development
to
the
end
,
must
carry
the
adventure
to
its
conclusion
.
And
the
next
step
was
over
the
border
into
death
.
So
it
was
then
!
There
was
a
certain
peace
in
the
knowledge
.
After
all
,
when
one
was
fulfilled
,
one
was
happiest
in
falling
into
death
,
as
a
bitter
fruit
plunges
in
its
ripeness
downwards
.
Death
is
a
great
consummation
,
a
consummating
experience
.
It
is
a
development
from
life
.
That
we
know
,
while
we
are
yet
living
.
What
then
need
we
think
for
further
?
One
can
never
see
beyond
the
consummation
.
It
is
enough
that
death
is
a
great
and
conclusive
experience
.
Why
should
we
ask
what
comes
after
the
experience
,
when
the
experience
is
still
unknown
to
us
?
Let
us
die
,
since
the
great
experience
is
the
one
that
follows
now
upon
all
the
rest
,
death
,
which
is
the
next
great
crisis
in
front
of
which
we
have
arrived
.
If
we
wait
,
if
we
baulk
the
issue
,
we
do
but
hang
about
the
gates
in
undignified
uneasiness
.
There
it
is
,
in
front
of
us
,
as
in
front
of
Sappho
,
the
illimitable
space
.
Thereinto
goes
the
journey
.
Have
we
not
the
courage
to
go
on
with
our
journey
,
must
we
cry
‘I
daren’t’
?
On
ahead
we
will
go
,
into
death
,
and
whatever
death
may
mean
.
If
a
man
can
see
the
next
step
to
be
taken
,
why
should
he
fear
the
next
but
one
?
Why
ask
about
the
next
but
one
?
Of
the
next
step
we
are
certain
.
It
is
the
step
into
death
.
“
I
shall
die
—
I
shall
quickly
die
,
”
said
Ursula
to
herself
,
clear
as
if
in
a
trance
,
clear
,
calm
,
and
certain
beyond
human
certainty
.
But
somewhere
behind
,
in
the
twilight
,
there
was
a
bitter
weeping
and
a
hopelessness
.
That
must
not
be
attended
to
.
One
must
go
where
the
unfaltering
spirit
goes
,
there
must
be
no
baulking
the
issue
,
because
of
fear
.
No
baulking
the
issue
,
no
listening
to
the
lesser
voices
.
If
the
deepest
desire
be
now
,
to
go
on
into
the
unknown
of
death
,
shall
one
forfeit
the
deepest
truth
for
one
more
shallow
?
“
Then
let
it
end
,
”
she
said
to
herself
.
It
was
a
decision
.
It
was
not
a
question
of
taking
one’s
life
—
she
would
never
kill
herself
,
that
was
repulsive
and
violent
.
It
was
a
question
of
knowing
the
nextcstep
.
And
the
next
step
led
into
the
space
of
death
.
Did
it
?
—
or
was
there
—
?
Her
thoughts
drifted
into
unconsciousness
,
she
sat
as
if
asleep
beside
the
fire
.
And
then
the
thought
came
back
.
The
space
of
death
!
Could
she
give
herself
to
it
?
Ah
yes
—
it
was
a
sleep
.
She
had
had
enough
.
So
long
she
had
held
out
;
and
resisted
.
Now
was
the
time
to
relinquish
,
not
to
resist
any
more
.
In
a
kind
of
spiritual
trance
,
she
yielded
,
she
gave
way
,
and
all
was
dark
.
She
could
feel
,
within
the
darkness
,
the
terrible
assertion
of
her
body
,
the
unutterable
anguish
of
dissolution
,
the
only
anguish
that
is
too
much
,
the
far-off
,
awful
nausea
of
dissolution
set
in
within
the
body
.
“
Does
the
body
correspond
so
immediately
with
the
spirit
?
”
she
asked
herself
.
And
she
knew
,
with
the
clarity
of
ultimate
knowledge
,
that
the
body
is
only
one
of
the
manifestations
of
the
spirit
,
the
transmutation
of
the
integral
spirit
is
the
transmutation
of
the
physical
body
as
well
.
Unless
I
set
my
will
,
unless
I
absolve
myself
from
the
rhythm
of
life
,
fix
myself
and
remain
static
,
cut
off
from
living
,
absolved
within
my
own
will
.
But
better
die
than
live
mechanically
a
life
that
is
a
repetition
of
repetitions
.
To
die
is
to
move
on
with
the
invisible
.
To
die
is
also
a
joy
,
a
joy
of
submitting
to
that
which
is
greater
than
the
known
,
namely
,
the
pure
unknown
.
That
is
a
joy
.
But
to
live
mechanised
and
cut
off
within
the
motion
of
the
will
,
to
live
as
an
entity
absolved
from
the
unknown
,
that
is
shameful
and
ignominious
.
There
is
no
ignominy
in
death
.
There
is
complete
ignominy
in
an
unreplenished
,
mechanised
life
.
Life
indeed
may
be
ignominious
,
shameful
to
the
soul
.
But
death
is
never
a
shame
.
Death
itself
,
like
the
illimitable
space
,
is
beyond
our
sullying
.
Tomorrow
was
Monday
.
Monday
,
the
beginning
of
another
school-week
!
Another
shameful
,
barren
school-week
,
mere
routine
and
mechanical
activity
.
Was
not
the
adventure
of
death
infinitely
preferable
?
Was
not
death
infinitely
more
lovely
and
noble
than
such
a
life
?
A
life
of
barren
routine
,
without
inner
meaning
,
without
any
real
significance
.
How
sordid
life
was
,
how
it
was
a
terrible
shame
to
the
soul
,
to
live
now
!
How
much
cleaner
and
more
dignified
to
be
dead
!
One
could
not
bear
any
more
of
this
shame
of
sordid
routine
and
mechanical
nullity
.
One
might
come
to
fruit
in
death
.
She
had
had
enough
.
For
where
was
life
to
be
found
?
No
flowers
grow
upon
busy
machinery
,
there
is
no
sky
to
a
routine
,
there
is
no
space
to
a
rotary
motion
.
And
all
life
was
a
rotary
motion
,
mechanised
,
cut
off
from
reality
.
There
was
nothing
to
look
for
from
life
—
it
was
the
same
in
all
countries
and
all
peoples
.
The
only
window
was
death
.
One
could
look
out
on
to
the
great
dark
sky
of
death
with
elation
,
as
one
had
looked
out
of
the
classroom
window
as
a
child
,
and
seen
perfect
freedom
in
the
outside
.
Now
one
was
not
a
child
,
and
one
knew
that
the
soul
was
a
prisoner
within
this
sordid
vast
edifice
of
life
,
and
there
was
no
escape
,
save
in
death
.
But
what
a
joy
!
What
a
gladness
to
think
that
whatever
humanity
did
,
it
could
not
seize
hold
of
the
kingdom
of
death
,
to
nullify
that
.
The
sea
they
turned
into
a
murderous
alley
and
a
soiled
road
of
commerce
,
disputed
like
the
dirty
land
of
a
city
every
inch
of
it
.
The
air
they
claimed
too
,
shared
it
up
,
parcelled
it
out
to
certain
owners
,
they
trespassed
in
the
air
to
fight
for
it
.
Everything
was
gone
,
walled
in
,
with
spikes
on
top
of
the
walls
,
and
one
must
ignominiously
creep
between
the
spiky
walls
through
a
labyrinth
of
life
.
But
the
great
,
dark
,
illimitable
kingdom
of
death
,
there
humanity
was
put
to
scorn
.
So
much
they
could
do
upon
earth
,
the
multifarious
little
gods
that
they
were
.
But
the
kingdom
of
death
put
them
all
to
scorn
,
they
dwindled
into
their
true
vulgar
silliness
in
face
of
it
.
How
beautiful
,
how
grand
and
perfect
death
was
,
how
good
to
look
forward
to
.
There
one
would
wash
off
all
the
lies
and
ignominy
and
dirt
that
had
been
put
upon
one
here
,
a
perfect
bath
of
cleanness
and
glad
refreshment
,
and
go
unknown
,
unquestioned
,
unabased
.
After
all
,
one
was
rich
,
if
only
in
the
promise
of
perfect
death
.
It
was
a
gladness
above
all
,
that
this
remained
to
look
forward
to
,
the
pure
inhuman
otherness
of
death
.
Whatever
life
might
be
,
it
could
not
take
away
death
,
the
inhuman
transcendent
death
.
Oh
,
let
us
ask
no
question
of
it
,
what
it
is
or
is
not
.
To
know
is
human
,
and
in
death
we
do
not
know
,
we
are
not
human
.
And
the
joy
of
this
compensates
for
all
the
bitterness
of
knowledge
and
the
sordidness
of
our
humanity
.
In
death
we
shall
not
be
human
,
and
we
shall
not
know
.
The
promise
of
this
is
our
heritage
,
we
look
forward
like
heirs
to
their
majority
.
Ursula
sat
quite
still
and
quite
forgotten
,
alone
by
the
fire
in
the
drawing-room
.
The
children
were
playing
in
the
kitchen
,
all
the
others
were
gone
to
church
.
And
she
was
gone
into
the
ultimate
darkness
of
her
own
soul
.
She
was
startled
by
hearing
the
bell
ring
,
away
in
the
kitchen
,
the
children
came
scudding
along
the
passage
in
delicious
alarm
.
“
Ursula
,
there’s
somebody
.
”
“
I
know
.
Don’t
be
silly
,
”
she
replied
.
She
too
was
startled
,
almost
frightened
.
She
dared
hardly
go
to
the
door
.
Birkin
stood
on
the
threshold
,
his
rain-coat
turned
up
to
his
ears
.
He
had
come
now
,
now
she
was
gone
far
away
.
She
was
aware
of
the
rainy
night
behind
him
.
“
Oh
is
it
you
?
”
she
said
.
“
I
am
glad
you
are
at
home
,
”
he
said
in
a
low
voice
,
entering
the
house
.
“
They
are
all
gone
to
church
.
”
He
took
off
his
coat
and
hung
it
up
.
The
children
were
peeping
at
him
round
the
corner
.
“
Go
and
get
undressed
now
,
Billy
and
Dora
,
”
said
Ursula
.
“
Mother
will
be
back
soon
,
and
she’ll
be
disappointed
if
you’re
not
in
bed
.
”
The
children
,
in
a
sudden
angelic
mood
,
retired
without
a
word
.
Birkin
and
Ursula
went
into
the
drawing-room
.
The
fire
burned
low
.
He
looked
at
her
and
wondered
at
the
luminous
delicacy
of
her
beauty
,
and
the
wide
shining
of
her
eyes
.
He
watched
from
a
distance
,
with
wonder
in
his
heart
,
she
seemed
transfigured
with
light
.
“
What
have
you
been
doing
all
day
?
”
he
asked
her
.
“
Only
sitting
about
,
”
she
said
.
He
looked
at
her
.
There
was
a
change
in
her
.
But
she
was
separate
from
him
.
She
remained
apart
,
in
a
kind
of
brightness
.
They
both
sat
silent
in
the
soft
light
of
the
lamp
.
He
felt
he
ought
to
go
away
again
,
he
ought
not
to
have
come
.
Still
he
did
not
gather
enough
resolution
to
move
.
But
he
was
de
trop
,
her
mood
was
absent
and
separate
.
Then
there
came
the
voices
of
the
two
children
calling
shyly
outside
the
door
,
softly
,
with
self-excited
timidity
:
“
Ursula
!
Ursula
!
”
She
rose
and
opened
the
door
.
On
the
threshold
stood
the
two
children
in
their
long
nightgowns
,
with
wide-eyed
,
angelic
faces
.
They
were
being
very
good
for
the
moment
,
playing
the
rôle
perfectly
of
two
obedient
children
.
“
Shall
you
take
us
to
bed
!
”
said
Billy
,
in
a
loud
whisper
.
“
Why
you
are
angels
tonight
,
”
she
said
softly
.
“
Won’t
you
come
and
say
good-night
to
Mr
Birkin
?
”
The
children
merged
shyly
into
the
room
,
on
bare
feet
.
Billy’s
face
was
wide
and
grinning
,
but
there
was
a
great
solemnity
of
being
good
in
his
round
blue
eyes
.
Dora
,
peeping
from
the
floss
of
her
fair
hair
,
hung
back
like
some
tiny
Dryad
,
that
has
no
soul
.
“
Will
you
say
good-night
to
me
?
”
asked
Birkin
,
in
a
voice
that
was
strangely
soft
and
smooth
.
Dora
drifted
away
at
once
,
like
a
leaf
lifted
on
a
breath
of
wind
.
But
Billy
went
softly
forward
,
slow
and
willing
,
lifting
his
pinched-up
mouth
implicitly
to
be
kissed
.
Ursula
watched
the
full
,
gathered
lips
of
the
man
gently
touch
those
of
the
boy
,
so
gently
.
Then
Birkin
lifted
his
fingers
and
touched
the
boy’s
round
,
confiding
cheek
,
with
a
faint
touch
of
love
.
Neither
spoke
.
Billy
seemed
angelic
like
a
cherub
boy
,
or
like
an
acolyte
,
Birkin
was
a
tall
,
grave
angel
looking
down
to
him
.
“
Are
you
going
to
be
kissed
?
”
Ursula
broke
in
,
speaking
to
the
little
girl
.
But
Dora
edged
away
like
a
tiny
Dryad
that
will
not
be
touched
.
“
Won’t
you
say
good-night
to
Mr
Birkin
?
Go
,
he’s
waiting
for
you
,
”
said
Ursula
.
But
the
girl-child
only
made
a
little
motion
away
from
him
.
“
Silly
Dora
,
silly
Dora
!
”
said
Ursula
.
Birkin
felt
some
mistrust
and
antagonism
in
the
small
child
.
He
could
not
understand
it
.
“
Come
then
,
”
said
Ursula
.
“
Let
us
go
before
mother
comes
.
”
“
Who’ll
hear
us
say
our
prayers
?
”
asked
Billy
anxiously
.
“
Whom
you
like
.
”
“
Won’t
you
?
”
“
Yes
,
I
will
.
”
“
Ursula
?
”
“
Well
Billy
?
”
“
Is
it
whom
you
like
?
”
“
That’s
it
.
”
“
Well
what
is
whom
?
”
“
It’s
the
accusative
of
who
.
”
There
was
a
moment’s
contemplative
silence
,
then
the
confiding
:
“
Is
it
?
”
Birkin
smiled
to
himself
as
he
sat
by
the
fire
.
When
Ursula
came
down
he
sat
motionless
,
with
his
arms
on
his
knees
.
She
saw
him
,
how
he
was
motionless
and
ageless
,
like
some
crouching
idol
,
some
image
of
a
deathly
religion
.
He
looked
round
at
her
,
and
his
face
,
very
pale
and
unreal
,
seemed
to
gleam
with
a
whiteness
almost
phosphorescent
.
“
Don’t
you
feel
well
?
”
she
asked
,
in
indefinable
repulsion
.
“
I
hadn’t
thought
about
it
.
”
“
But
don’t
you
know
without
thinking
about
it
?
”
He
looked
at
her
,
his
eyes
dark
and
swift
,
and
he
saw
her
revulsion
.
He
did
not
answer
her
question
.
“
Don’t
you
know
whether
you
are
unwell
or
not
,
without
thinking
about
it
?
”
she
persisted
.
“
Not
always
,
”
he
said
coldly
.
“
But
don’t
you
think
that’s
very
wicked
?
”
“
Wicked
?
”
“
Yes
.
I
think
it’s
criminal
to
have
so
little
connection
with
your
own
body
that
you
don’t
even
know
when
you
are
ill.
”
He
looked
at
her
darkly
.
“
Yes
,
”
he
said
.
“
Why
don’t
you
stay
in
bed
when
you
are
seedy
?
You
look
perfectly
ghastly
.
”
“
Offensively
so
?
”
he
asked
ironically
.
“
Yes
,
quite
offensive
.
Quite
repelling
.
”
“
Ah
!
!
Well
that’s
unfortunate
.
”
“
And
it’s
raining
,
and
it’s
a
horrible
night
.
Really
,
you
shouldn’t
be
forgiven
for
treating
your
body
like
it
—
you
ought
to
suffer
,
a
man
who
takes
as
little
notice
of
his
body
as
that
.
”
“
—
takes
as
little
notice
of
his
body
as
that
,
”
he
echoed
mechanically
.
This
cut
her
short
,
and
there
was
silence
.
The
others
came
in
from
church
,
and
the
two
had
the
girls
to
face
,
then
the
mother
and
Gudrun
,
and
then
the
father
and
the
boy
.
“
Good-evening
,
”
said
Brangwen
,
faintly
surprised
.
“
Came
to
see
me
,
did
you
?
”
“
No
,
”
said
Birkin
,
“
not
about
anything
,
in
particular
,
that
is
.
The
day
was
dismal
,
and
I
thought
you
wouldn’t
mind
if
I
called
in
.
”
“
It
has
been
a
depressing
day
,
”
said
Mrs
Brangwen
sympathetically
.
At
that
moment
the
voices
of
the
children
were
heard
calling
from
upstairs
:
“
Mother
!
Mother
!
”
She
lifted
her
face
and
answered
mildly
into
the
distance
:
“
I
shall
come
up
to
you
in
a
minute
,
Doysie
.
”
Then
to
Birkin
:
“
There
is
nothing
fresh
at
Shortlands
,
I
suppose
?
Ah
,
”
she
sighed
,
“
no
,
poor
things
,
I
should
think
not
.
”
“
You’ve
been
over
there
today
,
I
suppose
?
”
asked
the
father
.
“
Gerald
came
round
to
tea
with
me
,
and
I
walked
back
with
him
.
The
house
is
overexcited
and
unwholesome
,
I
thought
.
”
“
I
should
think
they
were
people
who
hadn’t
much
restraint
,
”
said
Gudrun
.
“
Or
too
much
,
”
Birkin
answered
.
“
Oh
yes
,
I’m
sure
,
”
said
Gudrun
,
almost
vindictively
,
“
one
or
the
other
.
”
“
They
all
feel
they
ought
to
behave
in
some
unnatural
fashion
,
”
said
Birkin
.
“
When
people
are
in
grief
,
they
would
do
better
to
cover
their
faces
and
keep
in
retirement
,
as
in
the
old
days
.
”
“
Certainly
!
”
cried
Gudrun
,
flushed
and
inflammable
.
“
What
can
be
worse
than
this
public
grief
—
what
is
more
horrible
,
more
false
!
If
grief
is
not
private
,
and
hidden
,
what
is
?
”
“
Exactly
,
”
he
said
.
“
I
felt
ashamed
when
I
was
there
and
they
were
all
going
about
in
a
lugubrious
false
way
,
feeling
they
must
not
be
natural
or
ordinary
.
”
“
Well
—
”
said
Mrs
Brangwen
,
offended
at
this
criticism
,
“
it
isn’t
so
easy
to
bear
a
trouble
like
that
.
”
And
she
went
upstairs
to
the
children
.
He
remained
only
a
few
minutes
longer
,
then
took
his
leave
.
When
he
was
gone
Ursula
felt
such
a
poignant
hatred
of
him
,
that
all
her
brain
seemed
turned
into
a
sharp
crystal
of
fine
hatred
.
Her
whole
nature
seemed
sharpened
and
intensified
into
a
pure
dart
of
hate
.
She
could
not
imagine
what
