He hardly cared.
He did not care now who knew.
And she hated this in him.
One MUST be cautious.
One must preserve oneself.
She led the way to the kitchen.
It was neat and tidy, as the woman had left it.
He looked up at the clock—twenty minutes past five Then he sat down on a chair to put on his boots.
She waited, watching his every movement.
She wanted it to be over, it was a great nervous strain on her.
He stood up—she unbolted the back door, and looked out.
A cold, raw night, not yet dawn, with a piece of a moon in the vague sky.
She was glad she need not go out.
'Good-bye then,' he murmured.
'I'll come to the gate,' she said.
And again she hurried on in front, to warn him of the steps.
And at the gate, once more she stood on the step whilst he stood below her.
'Good-bye,' she whispered.
He kissed her dutifully, and turned away.
She suffered torments hearing his firm tread going so distinctly down the road.
Ah, the insensitiveness of that firm tread!
She closed the gate, and crept quickly and noiselessly back to bed.
When she was in her room, and the door closed, and all safe, she breathed freely, and a great weight fell off her.
She nestled down in bed, in the groove his body had made, in the warmth he had left.
And excited, worn-out, yet still satisfied, she fell soon into a deep, heavy sleep.
Gerald walked quickly through the raw darkness of the coming dawn.
He met nobody.
His mind was beautifully still and thoughtless, like a still pool, and his body full and warm and rich.
He went quickly along towards Shortlands, in a grateful self-sufficiency.
Chapter 25 Marriage or Not
The Brangwen family was going to move from Beldover.
It was necessary now for the father to be in town.
Birkin had taken out a marriage licence, yet Ursula deferred from day to day.
She would not fix any definite time—she still wavered.
Her month's notice to leave the Grammar School was in its third week.
Christmas was not far off.
Gerald waited for the Ursula-Birkin marriage.
It was something crucial to him.
'Shall we make it a double-barrelled affair?' he said to Birkin one day.
'Who for the second shot?' asked Birkin.
'Gudrun and me,' said Gerald, the venturesome twinkle in his eyes.
Birkin looked at him steadily, as if somewhat taken aback.
'Serious—or joking?' he asked.
'Oh, serious.
Shall I?
Shall Gudrun and I rush in along with you?'
'Do by all means,' said Birkin. 'I didn't know you'd got that length.'
'What length?' said Gerald, looking at the other man, and laughing. 'Oh yes, we've gone all the lengths.'
'There remains to put it on a broad social basis, and to achieve a high moral purpose,' said Birkin.
'Something like that: the length and breadth and height of it,' replied Gerald, smiling.