Page 681 - women-in-love

Crich, is he rich?’
‘Yes, he is rich, a coal owner.’
‘How long has your friendship with him lasted?’
‘Some months.’
There was a pause.
‘Yes, I am surprised,’ he said at length. ‘The English, I
thought they were so—cold. And what do you think to do
when you leave here?’
‘What do I think to do?’ she repeated.
‘Yes. You cannot go back to the teaching. No—‘ he
shrugged his shoulders—‘that is impossible. Leave that to
the CANAILLE who can do nothing else. You, for your
part—you know, you are a remarkable woman, eine selt-
same Frau. Why deny it—why make any question of it? You
are an extraordinary woman, why should you follow the or-
dinary course, the ordinary life?’
Gudrun sat looking at her hands, flushed. She was
pleased that he said, so simply, that she was a remarkable
woman. He would not say that to flatter her—he was far too
self-opinionated and objective by nature. He said it as he
would say a piece of sculpture was remarkable, because he
knew it was so.
And it gratified her to hear it from him. Other people
had such a passion to make everything of one degree, of
one pattern. In England it was chic to be perfectly ordinary.
And it was a relief to her to be acknowledged extraordinary.
Then she need not fret about the common standards.
‘You see,’ she said, ‘I have no money whatsoever.’
‘Ach, money!’ he cried, lifting his shoulders. ‘When one

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