Women in Love

'How are YOU?' she muttered, in her strangely quiet voice, as if nobody

should hear but him. 'You're not getting into a state, are you?

You're not letting it make you hysterical?' The curious challenge in the last words startled Gudrun.

'I don't think so, mother,' he answered, rather coldly cheery.

'Somebody's got to see it through, you know.' 'Have they? Have they?' answered his mother rapidly. 'Why should YOU

take it on yourself? What have you got to do, seeing it through. It

will see itself through. You are not needed.' 'No, I don't suppose I can do any good,' he answered. 'It's just how it

affects us, you see.' 'You like to be affected--don't you? It's quite nuts for you? You would

have to be important. You have no need to stop at home. Why don't you

go away!' These sentences, evidently the ripened grain of many dark hours, took

Gerald by surprise.

'I don't think it's any good going away now, mother, at the last

minute,' he said, coldly.

'You take care,' replied his mother. 'You mind YOURSELF--that's your

business. You take too much on yourself. You mind YOURSELF, or you'll

find yourself in Queer Street, that's what will happen to you. You're

hysterical, always were.' 'I'm all right, mother,' he said. 'There's no need to worry about ME, I

assure you.' 'Let the dead bury their dead--don't go and bury yourself along with

them--that's what I tell you. I know you well enough.' He did not answer this, not knowing what to say. The mother sat bunched

up in silence, her beautiful white hands, that had no rings whatsoever,

clasping the pommels of her arm-chair.

'You can't do it,' she said, almost bitterly. 'You haven't the nerve.

You're as weak as a cat, really--always were. Is this young woman

staying here?' 'No,' said Gerald. 'She is going home tonight.' 'Then she'd better have the dog-cart. Does she go far?' 'Only to Beldover.' 'Ah!' The elderly woman never looked at Gudrun, yet she seemed to take

knowledge of her presence.

'You are inclined to take too much on yourself, Gerald,' said the

mother, pulling herself to her feet, with a little difficulty.

'Will you go, mother?' he asked, politely.

'Yes, I'll go up again,' she replied. Turning to Gudrun, she bade her

'Good-night.' Then she went slowly to the door, as if she were

unaccustomed to walking. At the door she lifted her face to him,

implicitly. He kissed her.