Women in Love

'I know these beggars of old,' he said.

The long, demon-like beast lashed out again, spread on the air as if it

were flying, looking something like a dragon, then closing up again,

inconceivably powerful and explosive. The man's body, strung to its

efforts, vibrated strongly. Then a sudden sharp, white-edged wrath came

up in him. Swift as lightning he drew back and brought his free hand

down like a hawk on the neck of the rabbit. Simultaneously, there came

the unearthly abhorrent scream of a rabbit in the fear of death. It

made one immense writhe, tore his wrists and his sleeves in a final

convulsion, all its belly flashed white in a whirlwind of paws, and

then he had slung it round and had it under his arm, fast. It cowered

and skulked. His face was gleaming with a smile.

'You wouldn't think there was all that force in a rabbit,' he said,

looking at Gudrun. And he saw her eyes black as night in her pallid

face, she looked almost unearthly. The scream of the rabbit, after the

violent tussle, seemed to have torn the veil of her consciousness. He

looked at her, and the whitish, electric gleam in his face intensified.

'I don't really like him,' Winifred was crooning. 'I don't care for him

as I do for Loozie. He's hateful really.' A smile twisted Gudrun's face, as she recovered. She knew she was

revealed. 'Don't they make the most fearful noise when they scream?'

she cried, the high note in her voice, like a sea-gull's cry.

'Abominable,' he said.

'He shouldn't be so silly when he has to be taken out,' Winifred was

saying, putting out her hand and touching the rabbit tentatively, as it

skulked under his arm, motionless as if it were dead.

'He's not dead, is he Gerald?' she asked.

'No, he ought to be,' he said.

'Yes, he ought!' cried the child, with a sudden flush of amusement. And

she touched the rabbit with more confidence. 'His heart is beating SO

fast. Isn't he funny? He really is.' 'Where do you want him?' asked Gerald.

'In the little green court,' she said.

Gudrun looked at Gerald with strange, darkened eyes, strained with

underworld knowledge, almost supplicating, like those of a creature

which is at his mercy, yet which is his ultimate victor. He did not

know what to say to her. He felt the mutual hellish recognition. And he

felt he ought to say something, to cover it. He had the power of

lightning in his nerves, she seemed like a soft recipient of his

magical, hideous white fire. He was unconfident, he had qualms of fear.