face as he waited near her； and his features were like silver
and his eyes in shadow were unfathomable。 She was in love with
him。 He was very quiet。
They went indoors and she pretended to be tired。 So she went
quickly to bed。
〃Don't be long ing to me；〃 she whispered； as she was
supposed to be kissing him good night。
And he waited； intent； obsessed； for the moment when he could
e to her。
She enjoyed him； she made much of him。 She liked to put her
fingers on the soft skin of his sides； or on the softness of his
back； when he made the muscles hard underneath； the muscles
developed very strong through riding； and she had a great thrill
of excitement and passion； because of the unimpressible hardness
of his body； that was so soft and smooth under her fingers； that
came to her with such absolute service。
She owned his body and enjoyed it with all the delight and
carelessness of a possessor。 But he had bee gradually afraid
of her body。 He wanted her； he wanted her endlessly。 But there
had e a tension into his desire； a constraint which prevented
his enjoying the delicious approach and the lovable close of the
endless embrace。 He was afraid。 His will was always tense；
fixed。
Her final examination was at midsummer。 She insisted on
sitting for it； although she had neglected her work during the
past months。 He also wanted her to go in for the degree。 Then；
he thought； she would be satisfied。 Secretly he hoped she would
fail； so that she would be more glad of him。
〃Would you rather live in India or in England when we are
married？〃 he asked her。
〃Oh； in India； by far；〃 she said； with a careless lack of
consideration which annoyed him。
Once she said； with heat：
〃I shall be glad to leave England。 Everything is so meagre
and paltry； it is so unspiritual……I hate democracy。〃
He became angry to hear her talk like this； he did not know
why。 Somehow； he could not bear it； when she attacked things。 It
was as if she were attacking him。
〃What do you mean？〃 he asked her； hostile。 〃Why do you hate
democracy？〃
〃Only the greedy and ugly people e to the top in a
democracy；〃 she said； 〃because they're the only people who will
push themselves there。 Only degenerate races are
democratic。〃
〃What do you want then……an aristocracy？〃 he asked；
secretly moved。 He always felt that by rights he belonged to the
ruling aristocracy。 Yet to hear her speak for his class pained
him with a curious； painful pleasure。 He felt he was acquiescing
in something illegal； taking to himself some wrong；
reprehensible advantages。
〃I do want an aristocracy；〃 she cried。 〃And I'd far
rather have an aristocracy of birth than of money。 Who are the
aristocrats now……who are chosen as the best to rule？ Those
who have money and the brains for money。 It doesn't matter what
else they have： but they must have money…brains；……because
they are ruling in the name of money。〃
〃The people elect the government；〃 he said。
〃I know they do。 But what are the people？ Each one of them is
a money…interest。 I hate it； that anybody is my equal who has
the same amount of money as I have。 I know I am better
than all of them。 I hate them。 They are not my equals。 I hate
equality on a money basis。 It is the equality of dirt。〃
Her eyes blazed at him； he felt as if she wanted to destroy
him。 She had gripped him and was trying to break him。 His anger
sprang up； against her。 At least he would fight for his
existence with her。 A hard； blind resistance possessed him。
〃I don't care about money；〃 he said； 〃neither do I
want to put my finger in the pie。 I am too sensitive about my
finger。〃
〃What is your finger to me？〃 she cried； in a passion。 〃You
with your dainty fingers； and your going to India because you
will be one of the somebodies there！ It's a mere dodge； your
going to India。〃
〃In what way a dodge？〃 he cried； white with anger and
fear。
〃You think the Indians are simpler than us； and so you'll
enjoy being near them and being a lord over them；〃 she said。
〃And you'll feel so righteous； governing them for their own
good。 Who are you； to feel righteous？ What are you righteous
about； in your governing？ Your governing stinks。 What do you
govern for； but to make things there as dead and mean as they
are here！〃
〃I don't feel righteous in the least；〃 he said。
〃Then what do you feel？ It's all such a nothingness；
what you feel and what you don't feel。〃
〃What do you feel yourself？〃 he said。 〃Aren't you righteous
in your own mind？〃
〃Yes； I am； because I'm against you； and all your old； dead
things；〃 she cried。
She seemed； with the last words； uttered in hard knowledge；
to strike down the flag that he kept flying。 He felt cut off at
the knees； a figure made worthless。 A horrible sickness gripped
him； as if his legs were really cut away； and he could not move；
but remained a crippled trunk； dependent； worthless。 The ghastly
sense of helplessness； as if he were a mere figure that did not
exist vitally； made him mad； beside himself。
Now； even whilst he was with her； this death of himself came
over him； when he walked about like a body from which all
individual life is gone。 In this state he neither heard nor saw
nor felt； only the mechanism of his life continued。
He hated her； as far as； in this state； he could hate。 His
cunning suggested to him all the ways of making her esteem him。
For she did not esteem him。 He left her and did not write to
her。 He flirted with other women； with Gudrun。
This last made her very fierce。 She was still fiercely
jealous of his body。 In passionate anger she upbraided him
because； not being man enough to satisfy one woman； he hung
round others。
＇〃Don't I satisfy you？〃 he asked of her； again going white to the throat。
〃No；〃 she said。 〃You've never satisfied me since the first week in London。
You never satisfy me now。 What does it mean to me； your having me……〃＇
She lifted her shoulders and turned aside her face in a motion of cold；
indifferent worthlessness。 He felt he would kill her。
When she had roused him to a pitch of madness； when she saw
his eyes all dark and mad with suffering； then a great suffering
overcame her soul； a great； inconquerable suffering。 And she
loved him。 For； oh； she wanted to love him。 Stronger than life
or death was her craving to be able to love him。
And at such moments； when he was made with her destroying
him； when all his placency was destroyed； all his everyday
self was broken； and only the stripped； rudimentary； primal man
remained； demented with torture； her passion to love him became
love； she took him again； they came together in an overwhelming
passion； in which he knew he satisfied her。
But it all contained a developing germ of death。 After each
contact； her anguished desire for him or for that which she
never had from him was stronger； her love was more hopeless。
After each contact his mad dependence on her was deepened； his
hope of standing strong and taking her in his own strength was
weakened。 He felt himself a mere attribute of her。
Whitsuntide came； just before her examination。 She was to
have a few days of rest。 Dorothy had inherited her patrimony；
and had taken a cottage in Sussex。 She invited them to stay with
her。
They went down to Dorothy's neat； low cottage at the foot of
the downs。 Here they could do as they liked。 Ursula was always
yearning to go to the top of the downs。 The white track wound up
to the rounded summit。 And she must go。
Up there； she could see the Channel a few miles away； the sea
raised up and faintly glittering in the sky； the Isle of Wight a
shadow lifted in the far distance； the river winding bright
through the patterned plain to seaward； Arundel Castle a shadowy
bulk； and then the rolling of the high； smooth downs； making a
high； smooth land under heaven； acknowledging only the heavens
in their great； sun…glowing strength； and suffering only a few
bushes to trespass on the intercourse between their great；
unabateable body and the changeful body of the sky。
Below she saw the villages and the woods of the weald； and
the train running bravely； a gallant little thing； running with
all the importance of the world over the water meadows and into
the gap of the downs； waving its white steam； yet all the while
so little。 So little； yet its courage carried it from end to end
of the earth； till there was no place where it did not go。 Yet
the downs； in magnificent indifference； bearing limbs and body
to the sun； drinking sunshine and sea…wind and sea…wet cloud
into its golden skin； with superb stillness and calm of being；
was not the downs still more wonderful？ The blind； pathetic；
energetic courage of the train as it steamed tinily away through
the patterned levels to the sea's dimness； so fast and so
energetic； made her weep。 Where was it going？ It was going
nowhere； it was just going。 So blind； so without goal or aim；
yet so hasty！ She sat on an old prehistoric earth…work and
cried； and the tears ran down her face。 The train had tunnelled
all the earth； blindly； and uglily。
And she lay face downwards on the downs； that were so strong；
that cared only for their intercourse with the everlasting
skies； and she wished she could bee a strong mound smooth
under the sky； bosom and limbs bared to all winds and clouds and
bursts of sunshine。
But she must get up again and look down from her foothold of
sunshine； down and away at the patterned； level earth； with its
villages and its smoke and its energy。 So shortsighted the train
seemed； running to the distance； so terrifying in their
littleness the villages； with such pettiness in their
activity。
Skrebensky wandered dazed； not knowing where he was or what
he was doing with her。 All her passion seemed to be to wander up
there on the downs； and when she must descend to earth； she was
heavy。 Up there she was exhilarated and free。
She would not love him in a house any more。 She said she
hated houses； and particularly she hated beds。 There was
something distasteful in his ing to her bed。
She would stay the night on the downs； up there； he with her。
It was midsummer； the days were glamorously long。 At about
half…past ten； when the bluey…black darkness had at l