Women in Love
Page 89The carts that came could not pass through. They had to wait, the
driver calling and shouting, till the dense crowd would make way.
Everywhere, young fellows from the outlying districts were making
conversation with the girls, standing in the road and at the corners.
The doors of the public-houses were open and full of light, men passed
in and out in a continual stream, everywhere men were calling out to
one another, or crossing to meet one another, or standing in little
gangs and circles, discussing, endlessly discussing. The sense of talk,
buzzing, jarring, half-secret, the endless mining and political
wrangling, vibrated in the air like discordant machinery. And it was
their voices which affected Gudrun almost to swooning. They aroused a
strange, nostalgic ache of desire, something almost demoniacal, never
Like any other common girl of the district, Gudrun strolled up and
down, up and down the length of the brilliant two-hundred paces of the
pavement nearest the market-place. She knew it was a vulgar thing to
do; her father and mother could not bear it; but the nostalgia came
over her, she must be among the people. Sometimes she sat among the
louts in the cinema: rakish-looking, unattractive louts they were. Yet
she must be among them.
And, like any other common lass, she found her 'boy.' It was an
electrician, one of the electricians introduced according to Gerald's
new scheme. He was an earnest, clever man, a scientist with a passion
for sociology. He lived alone in a cottage, in lodgings, in Willey
spread the reports about him; he WOULD have a large wooden tub in his
bedroom, and every time he came in from work, he WOULD have pails and
pails of water brought up, to bathe in, then he put on clean shirt and
under-clothing EVERY day, and clean silk socks; fastidious and exacting
he was in these respects, but in every other way, most ordinary and
unassuming.
Gudrun knew all these things. The Brangwen's house was one to which the
gossip came naturally and inevitably. Palmer was in the first place a
friend of Ursula's. But in his pale, elegant, serious face there showed
the same nostalgia that Gudrun felt. He too must walk up and down the
street on Friday evening. So he walked with Gudrun, and a friendship
REALLY wanted Ursula, but for some strange reason, nothing could happen
between her and him. He liked to have Gudrun about, as a
fellow-mind--but that was all. And she had no real feeling for him. He
was a scientist, he had to have a woman to back him. But he was really
impersonal, he had the fineness of an elegant piece of machinery. He
was too cold, too destructive to care really for women, too great an
egoist. He was polarised by the men. Individually he detested and
despised them. In the mass they fascinated him, as machinery fascinated
him. They were a new sort of machinery to him--but incalculable,
incalculable.