Women in Love

'And what's going to happen?' said Gerald. 'You're going to keep open

the proposition, so to speak?' 'I suppose so. I vowed to myself I would see them all to the devil. But

I suppose I shall ask her again, in a little while.' Gerald watched him steadily.

'So you're fond of her then?' he asked.

'I think--I love her,' said Birkin, his face going very still and

fixed.

Gerald glistened for a moment with pleasure, as if it were something

done specially to please him. Then his face assumed a fitting gravity,

and he nodded his head slowly.

'You know,' he said, 'I always believed in love--true love. But where

does one find it nowadays?' 'I don't know,' said Birkin.

'Very rarely,' said Gerald. Then, after a pause, 'I've never felt it

myself--not what I should call love. I've gone after women--and been

keen enough over some of them. But I've never felt LOVE. I don't

believe I've ever felt as much LOVE for a woman, as I have for you--not

LOVE. You understand what I mean?' 'Yes. I'm sure you've never loved a woman.' 'You feel that, do you? And do you think I ever shall? You understand

what I mean?' He put his hand to his breast, closing his fist there, as

if he would draw something out. 'I mean that--that I can't express what

it is, but I know it.' 'What is it, then?' asked Birkin.

'You see, I can't put it into words. I mean, at any rate, something

abiding, something that can't change--' His eyes were bright and puzzled.

'Now do you think I shall ever feel that for a woman?' he said,

anxiously.

Birkin looked at him, and shook his head.

'I don't know,' he said. 'I could not say.' Gerald had been on the QUI VIVE, as awaiting his fate. Now he drew back

in his chair.

'No,' he said, 'and neither do I, and neither do I.' 'We are different, you and I,' said Birkin. 'I can't tell your life.' 'No,' said Gerald, 'no more can I. But I tell you--I begin to doubt

it!' 'That you will ever love a woman?' 'Well--yes--what you would truly call love--' 'You doubt it?' 'Well--I begin to.' There was a long pause.

'Life has all kinds of things,' said Birkin. 'There isn't only one

road.' 'Yes, I believe that too. I believe it. And mind you, I don't care how

it is with me--I don't care how it is--so long as I don't feel--' he

paused, and a blank, barren look passed over his face, to express his

feeling--'so long as I feel I've LIVED, somehow--and I don't care how

it is--but I want to feel that--' 'Fulfilled,' said Birkin.