Page 130 - women-in-love

talk to her. A sort of constraint came over Ursula in the big,
strange bedroom. Hermione seemed to be bearing down on
her, awful and inchoate, making some appeal. They were
looking at some Indian silk shirts, gorgeous and sensual in
themselves, their shape, their almost corrupt gorgeousness.
And Hermione came near, and her bosom writhed, and Ur-
sula was for a moment blank with panic. And for a moment
Hermione’s haggard eyes saw the fear on the face of the oth-
er, there was again a sort of crash, a crashing down. And
Ursula picked up a shirt of rich red and blue silk, made for a
young princess of fourteen, and was crying mechanically:
‘Isn’t it wonderful—who would dare to put those two
strong colours together—‘
Then Hermione’s maid entered silently and Ursula,
overcome with dread, escaped, carried away by powerful
impulse.
Birkin went straight to bed. He was feeling happy, and
sleepy. Since he had danced he was happy. But Gerald would
talk to him. Gerald, in evening dress, sat on Birkin’s bed
when the other lay down, and must talk.
‘Who are those two Brangwens?’ Gerald asked.
‘They live in Beldover.’
‘In Beldover! Who are they then?’
‘Teachers in the Grammar School.’
There was a pause.
‘They are!’ exclaimed Gerald at length. ‘I thought I had
seen them before.’
‘It disappoints you?’ said Birkin.
‘Disappoints me! No—but how is it Hermione has them

130 Women in Love