Page 587 - women-in-love

‘It’s quite true,’ said Gerald, ‘it never is quite the same
in England. But perhaps we don’t want it to be—perhaps
it’s like bringing the light a little too near the powder-mag-
azine, to let go altogether, in England. One is afraid what
might happen, if EVERYBODY ELSE let go.’
‘My God!’ cried Gudrun. ‘But wouldn’t it be wonderful, if
all England did suddenly go off like a display of fireworks.’
‘It couldn’t,’ said Ursula. ‘They are all too damp, the pow-
der is damp in them.’
‘I’m not so sure of that,’ said Gerald.
‘Nor I,’ said Birkin. ‘When the English really begin to go
off, EN MASSE, it’ll be time to shut your ears and run.’
‘They never will,’ said Ursula.
‘We’ll see,’ he replied.
‘Isn’t it marvellous,’ said Gudrun, ‘how thankful one can
be, to be out of one’s country. I cannot believe myself, I am
so transported, the moment I set foot on a foreign shore. I
say to myself ‘Here steps a new creature into life.‘‘
‘Don’t be too hard on poor old England,’ said Gerald.
‘Though we curse it, we love it really.’
To Ursula, there seemed a fund of cynicism in these
words.
‘We may,’ said Birkin. ‘But it’s a damnably uncomfortable
love: like a love for an aged parent who suffers horribly from
a complication of diseases, for which there is no hope.’
Gudrun looked at him with dilated dark eyes.
‘You think there is no hope?’ she asked, in her pertinent
fashion.
But Birkin backed away. He would not answer such a

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