Women in Love

'Heidelbeer!' he said.

'No! From the bilberries under the snow. Doesn't it look as if it were

distilled from snow. Can you--' she sniffed, and sniffed at the

bottle--'can you smell bilberries? Isn't it wonderful? It is exactly as

if one could smell them through the snow.' She stamped her foot lightly on the ground. He kneeled down and

whistled, and put his ear to the snow. As he did so his black eyes

twinkled up.

'Ha! Ha!' she laughed, warmed by the whimsical way in which he mocked

at her verbal extravagances. He was always teasing her, mocking her

ways. But as he in his mockery was even more absurd than she in her

extravagances, what could one do but laugh and feel liberated.

She could feel their voices, hers and his, ringing silvery like bells

in the frozen, motionless air of the first twilight. How perfect it

was, how VERY perfect it was, this silvery isolation and interplay.

She sipped the hot coffee, whose fragrance flew around them like bees

murmuring around flowers, in the snowy air, she drank tiny sips of the

Heidelbeerwasser, she ate the cold, sweet, creamy wafers. How good

everything was! How perfect everything tasted and smelled and sounded,

here in this utter stillness of snow and falling twilight.

'You are going away tomorrow?' his voice came at last.

'Yes.' There was a pause, when the evening seemed to rise in its silent,

ringing pallor infinitely high, to the infinite which was near at hand.

'WOHIN?' That was the question--WOHIN? Whither? WOHIN? What a lovely word! She

NEVER wanted it answered. Let it chime for ever.

'I don't know,' she said, smiling at him.

He caught the smile from her.

'One never does,' he said.

'One never does,' she repeated.

There was a silence, wherein he ate biscuits rapidly, as a rabbit eats

leaves.

'But,' he laughed, 'where will you take a ticket to?' 'Oh heaven!' she cried. 'One must take a ticket.' Here was a blow. She saw herself at the wicket, at the railway station.

Then a relieving thought came to her. She breathed freely.

'But one needn't go,' she cried.

'Certainly not,' he said.

'I mean one needn't go where one's ticket says.' That struck him. One might take a ticket, so as not to travel to the

destination it indicated. One might break off, and avoid the

destination. A point located. That was an idea!

'Then take a ticket to London,' he said. 'One should never go there.' 'Right,' she answered.