Women in Love

He affected to be quite ordinary, perfectly and marvellously

commonplace. And he did it so well, taking the tone of his

surroundings, adjusting himself quickly to his interlocutor and his

circumstance, that he achieved a verisimilitude of ordinary

commonplaceness that usually propitiated his onlookers for the moment,

disarmed them from attacking his singleness.

Now he spoke quite easily and pleasantly to Mr Crich, as they walked

along the path; he played with situations like a man on a tight-rope:

but always on a tight-rope, pretending nothing but ease.

'I'm sorry we are so late,' he was saying. 'We couldn't find a

button-hook, so it took us a long time to button our boots. But you

were to the moment.' 'We are usually to time,' said Mr Crich.

'And I'm always late,' said Birkin. 'But today I was REALLY punctual,

only accidentally not so. I'm sorry.' The two men were gone, there was nothing more to see, for the time.

Ursula was left thinking about Birkin. He piqued her, attracted her,

and annoyed her.

She wanted to know him more. She had spoken with him once or twice, but

only in his official capacity as inspector. She thought he seemed to

acknowledge some kinship between her and him, a natural, tacit

understanding, a using of the same language. But there had been no time

for the understanding to develop. And something kept her from him, as

well as attracted her to him. There was a certain hostility, a hidden

ultimate reserve in him, cold and inaccessible.

Yet she wanted to know him.

'What do you think of Rupert Birkin?' she asked, a little reluctantly,

of Gudrun. She did not want to discuss him.

'What do I think of Rupert Birkin?' repeated Gudrun. 'I think he's

attractive--decidedly attractive. What I can't stand about him is his

way with other people--his way of treating any little fool as if she

were his greatest consideration. One feels so awfully sold, oneself.' 'Why does he do it?' said Ursula.

'Because he has no real critical faculty--of people, at all events,'

said Gudrun. 'I tell you, he treats any little fool as he treats me or

you--and it's such an insult.' 'Oh, it is,' said Ursula. 'One must discriminate.' 'One MUST discriminate,' repeated Gudrun. 'But he's a wonderful chap,

in other respects--a marvellous personality. But you can't trust him.' 'Yes,' said Ursula vaguely. She was always forced to assent to Gudrun's

pronouncements, even when she was not in accord altogether.

The sisters sat silent, waiting for the wedding party to come out.

Gudrun was impatient of talk. She wanted to think about Gerald Crich.

She wanted to see if the strong feeling she had got from him was real.

She wanted to have herself ready.