Women in Love

'By God, I'm willing,' said Marshall, in a temper. 'Too much bloody

soul and talk altogether--' He withdrew in a dudgeon, Gerald staring after him with angry eyes,

that grew gradually calm and amiable as the stoutly-built form of the

other man passed into the distance.

'There's one thing, Lupton,' said Gerald, turning suddenly to the

bridegroom. 'Laura won't have brought such a fool into the family as

Lottie did.' 'Comfort yourself with that,' laughed Birkin.

'I take no notice of them,' laughed the bridegroom.

'What about this race then--who began it?' Gerald asked.

'We were late. Laura was at the top of the churchyard steps when our

cab came up. She saw Lupton bolting towards her. And she fled. But why

do you look so cross? Does it hurt your sense of the family dignity?' 'It does, rather,' said Gerald. 'If you're doing a thing, do it

properly, and if you're not going to do it properly, leave it alone.' 'Very nice aphorism,' said Birkin.

'Don't you agree?' asked Gerald.

'Quite,' said Birkin. 'Only it bores me rather, when you become

aphoristic.' 'Damn you, Rupert, you want all the aphorisms your own way,' said

Gerald.

'No. I want them out of the way, and you're always shoving them in it.' Gerald smiled grimly at this humorism. Then he made a little gesture of

dismissal, with his eyebrows.

'You don't believe in having any standard of behaviour at all, do you?'

he challenged Birkin, censoriously.

'Standard--no. I hate standards. But they're necessary for the common

ruck. Anybody who is anything can just be himself and do as he likes.' 'But what do you mean by being himself?' said Gerald. 'Is that an

aphorism or a cliche?' 'I mean just doing what you want to do. I think it was perfect good

form in Laura to bolt from Lupton to the church door. It was almost a

masterpiece in good form. It's the hardest thing in the world to act

spontaneously on one's impulses--and it's the only really gentlemanly

thing to do--provided you're fit to do it.' 'You don't expect me to take you seriously, do you?' asked Gerald.

'Yes, Gerald, you're one of the very few people I do expect that of.' 'Then I'm afraid I can't come up to your expectations here, at any

rate. You think people should just do as they like.' 'I think they always do. But I should like them to like the purely

individual thing in themselves, which makes them act in singleness. And

they only like to do the collective thing.' 'And I,' said Gerald grimly, 'shouldn't like to be in a world of people

who acted individually and spontaneously, as you call it. We should

have everybody cutting everybody else's throat in five minutes.' 'That means YOU would like to be cutting everybody's throat,' said

Birkin.