Women in Love

'If there is no love, what is there?' she cried, almost jeering.

'Something,' he said, looking at her, battling with his soul, with all

his might.

'What?' He was silent for a long time, unable to be in communication with her

while she was in this state of opposition.

'There is,' he said, in a voice of pure abstraction; 'a final me which

is stark and impersonal and beyond responsibility. So there is a final

you. And it is there I would want to meet you--not in the emotional,

loving plane--but there beyond, where there is no speech and no terms

of agreement. There we are two stark, unknown beings, two utterly

strange creatures, I would want to approach you, and you me. And there

could be no obligation, because there is no standard for action there,

because no understanding has been reaped from that plane. It is quite

inhuman,--so there can be no calling to book, in any form

whatsoever--because one is outside the pale of all that is accepted,

and nothing known applies. One can only follow the impulse, taking that

which lies in front, and responsible for nothing, asked for nothing,

giving nothing, only each taking according to the primal desire.' Ursula listened to this speech, her mind dumb and almost senseless,

what he said was so unexpected and so untoward.

'It is just purely selfish,' she said.

'If it is pure, yes. But it isn't selfish at all. Because I don't KNOW

what I want of you. I deliver MYSELF over to the unknown, in coming to

you, I am without reserves or defences, stripped entirely, into the

unknown. Only there needs the pledge between us, that we will both cast

off everything, cast off ourselves even, and cease to be, so that that

which is perfectly ourselves can take place in us.' She pondered along her own line of thought.

'But it is because you love me, that you want me?' she persisted.

'No it isn't. It is because I believe in you--if I DO believe in you.' 'Aren't you sure?' she laughed, suddenly hurt.

He was looking at her steadfastly, scarcely heeding what she said.

'Yes, I must believe in you, or else I shouldn't be here saying this,'

he replied. 'But that is all the proof I have. I don't feel any very

strong belief at this particular moment.' She disliked him for this sudden relapse into weariness and

faithlessness.

'But don't you think me good-looking?' she persisted, in a mocking

voice.

He looked at her, to see if he felt that she was good-looking.