knew that only the cipher of him was there； nothing was filled
in。 He went to the theatre； what he heard and saw fell upon a
cold surface of consciousness； which was now all that he was；
there was nothing behind it； he could have no experience of any
sort。 Mechanical registering took place in him； no more。 He had
no being； no contents。 Neither had the people he came into
contact with。 They were mere permutations of known quantities。
There was no roundness or fullness in this world he now
inhabited； everything was a dead shape mental arrangement；
without life or being。
Much of the time； he was with friends and rades。 Then he
forgot everything。 Their activities made up for his own
negation； they engaged his negative horror。
He only became happy when he drank； and he drank a good deal。
Then he was just the opposite to what he had been。 He became a
warm； diffuse； glowing cloud； in a warm； diffuse formless
fashion。 Everything melted down into a rosy glow； and he was the
glow； and everything was the glow； everybody else was the glow；
and it was very nice； very nice。 He would sing songs； it was so
nice。
Ursula went back to Beldover shut and firm。 She loved
Skrebensky； of that she was resolved。 She would allow nothing
else。
She read his long； obsessed letter about getting married and
going to India； without any particular response。 She seemed to
ignore what he said about marriage。 It did not e home to her。
He seemed； throughout the greater part of his letter； to be
talking without much meaning。
She replied to him pleasantly and easily。 She rarely wrote
long letters。
India sounds lovely。 I can just see myself on an elephant
swaying between lanes of obsequious natives。 But I don't know if
father would let me go。 We must see。
I keep living over again the lovely times we have had。 But I
don't think you liked me quite so much towards the end； did you？
You did not like me when we left Paris。 Why didn't you？
I love you very much。 I love your body。 It is so clear and
fine。 I am glad you do not go naked； or all the women would fall
in love with you。 I am very jealous of it； I love it so
much。
He was more or less satisfied with this letter。 But day after
day he was walking about； dead； non…existent。
He could not e again to Nottingham until the end of April。
Then he persuaded her to go with him for a week…end to a
friend's house near Oxford。 By this time they were engaged。 He
had written to her father； and the thing was settled。 He brought
her an emerald ring； of which she was very proud。
Her people treated her now with a little distance； as if she
had already left them。 They left her very much alone。
She went with him for the three days in the country house
near Oxford。 It was delicious； and she was very happy。 But the
thing she remembered most was when； getting up in the morning
after he had gone back quietly to his own room； having spent the
night with her； she found herself very rich in being alone； and
enjoying to the full her solitary room； she drew up her blind
and saw the plum trees in the garden below all glittering and
snowy and delighted with the sunshine； in full bloom under a
blue sky。 They threw out their blossom； they flung it out under
the blue heavens； the whitest blossom！ How excited it made
her。
She had to hurry through her dressing to go and walk in the
garden under the plum trees； before anyone should e and talk
to her。 Out she slipped； and paced like a queen in fairy
pleasaunces。 The blossom was silver…shadowy when she looked up
from under the tree at the blue sky。 There was a faint scent； a
faint noise of bees； a orning。
She heard the breakfast gong and went indoors。
〃Where have you been？〃 asked the others。
〃I had to go out under the plum trees；〃 she said； her face
glowing like a flower。 〃It is so lovely。〃
A shadow of anger crossed Skrebensky's soul。 She had not
wanted him to be there。 He hardened his will。
At night there was a moon； and the blossom glistened ghostly；
they went together to look at it。 She saw the moonlight on his
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