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is grown up, money is lying about at one’s service. It is only
when one is young that it is rare. Take no thought for mon-
ey—that always lies to hand.’
‘Does it?’ she said, laughing.
‘Always. The Gerald will give you a sum, if you ask him
for it—‘
She flushed deeply.
‘I will ask anybody else,’ she said, with some difficulty—
‘but not him.’
Loerke looked closely at her.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘Then let it be somebody else. Only don’t
go back to that England, that school. No, that is stupid.’
Again there was a pause. He was afraid to ask her out-
right to go with him, he was not even quite sure he wanted
her; and she was afraid to be asked. He begrudged his own
isolation, was VERY chary of sharing his life, even for a
day.
‘The only other place I know is Paris,’ she said, ‘and I
can’t stand that.’
She looked with her wide, steady eyes full at Loerke. He
lowered his head and averted his face.
‘Paris, no!’ he said. ‘Between the RELIGION D’AMOUR,
and the latest ‘ism, and the new turning to Jesus, one had
better ride on a carrousel all day. But come to Dresden. I
have a studio there—I can give you work,—oh, that would
be easy enough. I haven’t seen any of your things, but I be-
lieve in you. Come to Dresden—that is a fine town to be in,
and as good a life as you can expect of a town. You have ev-
erything there, without the foolishness of Paris or the beer

682 Women in Love