Women in Love

'Why Maud Allan?' he replied. 'Isn't it so? I always thought the legend

was that.' 'Yes, Gerald dear, I'm quite SURE you've got the legend perfectly.' She was laughing at him, with a little, mock-caressive contempt.

'To be sure, I'd rather see the woman than the hair,' he laughed in

return.

'Wouldn't you just!' mocked Gudrun.

Ursula rose and went away, leaving the three together.

Gudrun took the picture again from Gerald, and sat looking at it

closely.

'Of course,' she said, turning to tease Loerke now, 'you UNDERSTOOD

your little Malschulerin.' He raised his eyebrows and his shoulders in a complacent shrug.

'The little girl?' asked Gerald, pointing to the figure.

Gudrun was sitting with the picture in her lap. She looked up at

Gerald, full into his eyes, so that he seemed to be blinded.

'DIDN'T he understand her!' she said to Gerald, in a slightly mocking,

humorous playfulness. 'You've only to look at the feet--AREN'T they

darling, so pretty and tender--oh, they're really wonderful, they are

really--' She lifted her eyes slowly, with a hot, flaming look into Loerke's

eyes. His soul was filled with her burning recognition, he seemed to

grow more uppish and lordly.

Gerald looked at the small, sculptured feet. They were turned together,

half covering each other in pathetic shyness and fear. He looked at

them a long time, fascinated. Then, in some pain, he put the picture

away from him. He felt full of barrenness.

'What was her name?' Gudrun asked Loerke.

'Annette von Weck,' Loerke replied reminiscent. 'Ja, sie war hubsch.

She was pretty--but she was tiresome. She was a nuisance,--not for a

minute would she keep still--not until I'd slapped her hard and made

her cry--then she'd sit for five minutes.' He was thinking over the work, his work, the all important to him.

'Did you really slap her?' asked Gudrun, coolly.

He glanced back at her, reading her challenge.

'Yes, I did,' he said, nonchalant, 'harder than I have ever beat

anything in my life. I had to, I had to. It was the only way I got the

work done.' Gudrun watched him with large, dark-filled eyes, for some moments. She

seemed to be considering his very soul. Then she looked down, in

silence.

'Why did you have such a young Godiva then?' asked Gerald. 'She is so

small, besides, on the horse--not big enough for it--such a child.' A queer spasm went over Loerke's face.

'Yes,' he said. 'I don't like them any bigger, any older. Then they are

beautiful, at sixteen, seventeen, eighteen--after that, they are no use

to me.' There was a moment's pause.