Women in Love

They made their preparations to leave the next day. First they went to

Gudrun's room, where she and Gerald were just dressed ready for the

evening indoors.

'Prune,' said Ursula, 'I think we shall go away tomorrow. I can't stand

the snow any more. It hurts my skin and my soul.' 'Does it really hurt your soul, Ursula?' asked Gudrun, in some

surprise. 'I can believe quite it hurts your skin--it is TERRIBLE. But

I thought it was ADMIRABLE for the soul.' 'No, not for mine. It just injures it,' said Ursula.

'Really!' cried Gudrun.

There was a silence in the room. And Ursula and Birkin could feel that

Gudrun and Gerald were relieved by their going.

'You will go south?' said Gerald, a little ring of uneasiness in his

voice.

'Yes,' said Birkin, turning away. There was a queer, indefinable

hostility between the two men, lately. Birkin was on the whole dim and

indifferent, drifting along in a dim, easy flow, unnoticing and

patient, since he came abroad, whilst Gerald on the other hand, was

intense and gripped into white light, agonistes. The two men revoked

one another.

Gerald and Gudrun were very kind to the two who were departing,

solicitous for their welfare as if they were two children. Gudrun came

to Ursula's bedroom with three pairs of the coloured stockings for

which she was notorious, and she threw them on the bed. But these were

thick silk stockings, vermilion, cornflower blue, and grey, bought in

Paris. The grey ones were knitted, seamless and heavy. Ursula was in

raptures. She knew Gudrun must be feeling VERY loving, to give away

such treasures.

'I can't take them from you, Prune,' she cried. 'I can't possibly

deprive you of them--the jewels.' 'AREN'T they jewels!' cried Gudrun, eyeing her gifts with an envious

eye. 'AREN'T they real lambs!' 'Yes, you MUST keep them,' said Ursula.

'I don't WANT them, I've got three more pairs. I WANT you to keep

them--I want you to have them. They're yours, there--' And with trembling, excited hands she put the coveted stockings under

Ursula's pillow.

'One gets the greatest joy of all out of really lovely stockings,' said

Ursula.

'One does,' replied Gudrun; 'the greatest joy of all.' And she sat down in the chair. It was evident she had come for a last

talk. Ursula, not knowing what she wanted, waited in silence.

'Do you FEEL, Ursula,' Gudrun began, rather sceptically, that you are

going-away-for-ever, never-to-return, sort of thing?' 'Oh, we shall come back,' said Ursula. 'It isn't a question of

train-journeys.' 'Yes, I know. But spiritually, so to speak, you are going away from us

all?' Ursula quivered.