The man went.
Gerald turned to Birkin with his eyes lighted.
'And you used to wrestle with a Jap?' he said. 'Did you strip?'
'Sometimes.'
'You did!
What was he like then, as a wrestler?'
'Good, I believe.
I am no judge.
He was very quick and slippery and full of electric fire.
It is a remarkable thing, what a curious sort of fluid force they seem to have in them, those people not like a human grip—like a polyp—'
Gerald nodded.
'I should imagine so,' he said, 'to look at them.
They repel me, rather.'
'Repel and attract, both.
They are very repulsive when they are cold, and they look grey.
But when they are hot and roused, there is a definite attraction—a curious kind of full electric fluid—like eels.'
'Well—yes—probably.'
The man brought in the tray and set it down.
'Don't come in any more,' said Gerald.
The door closed.
'Well then,' said Gerald; 'shall we strip and begin?
Will you have a drink first?'
'No, I don't want one.'
'Neither do I.'
Gerald fastened the door and pushed the furniture aside.
The room was large, there was plenty of space, it was thickly carpeted.
Then he quickly threw off his clothes, and waited for Birkin.
The latter, white and thin, came over to him.
Birkin was more a presence than a visible object, Gerald was aware of him completely, but not really visually.
Whereas Gerald himself was concrete and noticeable, a piece of pure final substance.
'Now,' said Birkin, 'I will show you what I learned, and what I remember.
You let me take you so—' And his hands closed on the naked body of the other man.
In another moment, he had Gerald swung over lightly and balanced against his knee, head downwards.
Relaxed, Gerald sprang to his feet with eyes glittering.
'That's smart,' he said. 'Now try again.'
So the two men began to struggle together.
They were very dissimilar.
Birkin was tall and narrow, his bones were very thin and fine.
Gerald was much heavier and more plastic.
His bones were strong and round, his limbs were rounded, all his contours were beautifully and fully moulded.
He seemed to stand with a proper, rich weight on the face of the earth, whilst Birkin seemed to have the centre of gravitation in his own middle.
And Gerald had a rich, frictional kind of strength, rather mechanical, but sudden and invincible, whereas Birkin was abstract as to be almost intangible.
He impinged invisibly upon the other man, scarcely seeming to touch him, like a garment, and then suddenly piercing in a tense fine grip that seemed to penetrate into the very quick of Gerald's being.
They stopped, they discussed methods, they practised grips and throws, they became accustomed to each other, to each other's rhythm, they got a kind of mutual physical understanding.
And then again they had a real struggle.
They seemed to drive their white flesh deeper and deeper against each other, as if they would break into a oneness.
Birkin had a great subtle energy, that would press upon the other man with an uncanny force, weigh him like a spell put upon him.
Then it would pass, and Gerald would heave free, with white, heaving, dazzling movements.
So the two men entwined and wrestled with each other, working nearer and nearer.
Both were white and clear, but Gerald flushed smart red where he was touched, and Birkin remained white and tense.