Page 657 - women-in-love

by his tone he resented it, he resented this isolation she had
drawn round herself. Yet, feeling static and inevitable, she
was kind towards him.
‘Would you like to light the candle?’ she asked.
He did not answer, but came and stood behind her, in
the darkness.
‘Look,’ she said, ‘at that lovely star up there. Do you know
its name?’
He crouched beside her, to look through the low win-
dow.
‘No,’ he said. ‘It is very fine.’
‘ISN’T it beautiful! Do you notice how it darts different
coloured fires—it flashes really superbly—‘
They remained in silence. With a mute, heavy gesture
she put her hand on his knee, and took his hand.
‘Are you regretting Ursula?’ he asked.
‘No, not at all,’ she said. Then, in a slow mood, she
asked:
‘How much do you love me?’
He stiffened himself further against her.
‘How much do you think I do?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know,’ she replied.
‘But what is your opinion?’ he asked.
There was a pause. At length, in the darkness, came her
voice, hard and indifferent:
‘Very little indeed,’ she said coldly, almost flippant.
His heart went icy at the sound of her voice.
‘Why don’t I love you?’ he asked, as if admitting the truth
of her accusation, yet hating her for it.

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