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made not the slightest attempt to be at one with anything.
He existed a pure, unconnected will, stoical and momenta-
neous. There was only his work.
It was curious too, how his poverty, the degradation of
his earlier life, attracted her. There was something insipid
and tasteless to her, in the idea of a gentleman, a man who
had gone the usual course through school and university. A
certain violent sympathy, however, came up in her for this
mud-child. He seemed to be the very stuff of the under-
world of life. There was no going beyond him.
Ursula too was attracted by Loerke. In both sisters he
commanded a certain homage. But there were moments
when to Ursula he seemed indescribably inferior, false, a
vulgarism.
Both Birkin and Gerald disliked him, Gerald ignoring
him with some contempt, Birkin exasperated.
‘What do the women find so impressive in that little
brat?’ Gerald asked.
‘God alone knows,’ replied Birkin, ‘unless it’s some sort
of appeal he makes to them, which flatters them and has
such a power over them.’
Gerald looked up in surprise.
‘DOES he make an appeal to them?’ he asked.
‘Oh yes,’ replied Birkin. ‘He is the perfectly subjected be-
ing, existing almost like a criminal. And the women rush
towards that, like a current of air towards a vacuum.’
‘Funny they should rush to that,’ said Gerald.
‘Makes one mad, too,’ said Birkin. ‘But he has the fascina-
tion of pity and repulsion for them, a little obscene monster

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