Page 237 - women-in-love

calling from the distance. He watched her as she paddled
away. There was something childlike about her, trustful and
deferential, like a child. He watched her all the while, as she
rowed. And to Gudrun it was a real delight, in make-belief,
to be the childlike, clinging woman to the man who stood
there on the quay, so good-looking and efficient in his white
clothes, and moreover the most important man she knew
at the moment. She did not take any notice of the wavering,
indistinct, lambent Birkin, who stood at his side. One figure
at a time occupied the field of her attention.
The boat rustled lightly along the water. They passed the
bathers whose striped tents stood between the willows of
the meadow’s edge, and drew along the open shore, past
the meadows that sloped golden in the light of the already
late afternoon. Other boats were stealing under the wooded
shore opposite, they could hear people’s laughter and voices.
But Gudrun rowed on towards the clump of trees that bal-
anced perfect in the distance, in the golden light.
The sisters found a little place where a tiny stream flowed
into the lake, with reeds and flowery marsh of pink willow
herb, and a gravelly bank to the side. Here they ran delicate-
ly ashore, with their frail boat, the two girls took off their
shoes and stockings and went through the water’s edge to
the grass. The tiny ripples of the lake were warm and clear,
they lifted their boat on to the bank, and looked round with
joy. They were quite alone in a forsaken little stream-mouth,
and on the knoll just behind was the clump of trees.
‘We will bathe just for a moment,’ said Ursula, ‘and then
we’ll have tea.’

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