Women in Love

In her parlour was a long-case clock, and inserted into its dial was a

ruddy, round, slant-eyed, joyous-painted face, that wagged over with

the most ridiculous ogle when the clock ticked, and back again with the

same absurd glad-eye at the next tick. All the time the absurd smooth,

brown-ruddy face gave her an obtrusive 'glad-eye.' She stood for

minutes, watching it, till a sort of maddened disgust overcame her, and

she laughed at herself hollowly. And still it rocked, and gave her the

glad-eye from one side, then from the other, from one side, then from

the other. Ah, how unhappy she was! In the midst of her most active

happiness, ah, how unhappy she was! She glanced at the table.

Gooseberry jam, and the same home-made cake with too much soda in it!

Still, gooseberry jam was good, and one so rarely got it.

All the evening she wanted to go to the Mill. But she coldly refused to

allow herself. She went the next afternoon instead. She was happy to

find Ursula alone. It was a lovely, intimate secluded atmosphere. They

talked endlessly and delightedly. 'Aren't you FEARFULLY happy here?'

said Gudrun to her sister glancing at her own bright eyes in the

mirror. She always envied, almost with resentment, the strange positive

fullness that subsisted in the atmosphere around Ursula and Birkin.

How really beautifully this room is done,' she said aloud. 'This hard

plaited matting--what a lovely colour it is, the colour of cool light!' And it seemed to her perfect.

'Ursula,' she said at length, in a voice of question and detachment,

'did you know that Gerald Crich had suggested our going away all

together at Christmas?' 'Yes, he's spoken to Rupert.' A deep flush dyed Gudrun's cheek. She was silent a moment, as if taken

aback, and not knowing what to say.

'But don't you thing,' she said at last, 'it is AMAZINGLY COOL !' Ursula laughed.

'I like him for it,' she said.

Gudrun was silent. It was evident that, whilst she was almost mortified

by Gerald's taking the liberty of making such a suggestion to Birkin,

yet the idea itself attracted her strongly.

'There's rather lovely simplicity about Gerald, I think,' said Ursula,

'so defiant, somehow! Oh, I think he's VERY lovable.' Gudrun did not reply for some moments. She had still to get over the

feeling of insult at the liberty taken with her freedom.

'What did Rupert say--do you know?' she asked.

'He said it would be most awfully jolly,' said Ursula.

Again Gudrun looked down, and was silent.