`AhGerald，'shesaid，inastrong，slow，almostman—likeway。`——Allthat，andmore。'Hereyeslookedupathimwithshockingnonchalance。
　　Hefeltagainasifshehadtornhimacrossthebreast，dully，finally。
　　Heturnedaside。
　　`Eat，eatmydarling！'Winifredwassoftlyconjuringtherabbit，andcreepingforwardtotouchit。Ithobbledawayfromher。`Letitsmotherstrokeitsfurthen，darling，becauseitissomysterious——'
　　WomenInLove:Chapter19CHAPTERXIXMoonyAFTERHISILLNESSBirkinwenttothesouthofFranceforatime。Hedidnotwrite，nobodyheardanythingofhim。Ursula，leftalone，feltasifeverythingwerelapsingout。Thereseemedtobenohopeintheworld。OnewasatinylittlerockwiththetideofnothingnessrisinghigherandhigherSheherselfwasreal，andonlyherself——justlikearockinawashofflood—water。Therestwasallnothingness。Shewashardandindifferent，isolatedinherself。
　　Therewasnothingforitnow，butcontemptuous，resistantindifference。
　　Alltheworldwaslapsingintoagreywish—washofnothingness，shehadnocontactandnoconnectionanywhere。Shedespisedanddetestedthewholeshow。Fromthebottomofherheart，fromthebottomofhersoul，shedespisedanddetestedpeople，adultpeople。Shelovedonlychildrenandanimals:
　　childrenshelovedpassionately，butcoldly。Theymadeherwanttohugthem，toprotectthem，togivethemlife。Butthisverylove，basedonpityanddespair，wasonlyabondageandapaintoher。Shelovedbestofalltheanimals，thatweresingleandunsocialassheherselfwas。Shelovedthehorsesandcowsinthefield。Eachwassingleandtoitself，magical。Itwasnotreferredawaytosomedetestablesocialprinciple。
　　Itwasincapableofsoulfulnessandtragedy，whichshedetestedsoprofoundly。
　　Shecouldbeverypleasantandflattering，almostsubservient，topeopleshemet。Butnoonewastakenin。Instinctivelyeachfelthercontemptuousmockeryofthehumanbeinginhimself，orherself。Shehadaprofoundgrudgeagainstthehumanbeing。Thatwhichtheword`human'stoodforwasdespicableandrepugnanttoher。
　　Mostlyherheartwasclosedinthishidden，unconsciousstrainofcontemptuousridicule。Shethoughtsheloved，shethoughtshewasfulloflove。Thiswasherideaofherself。Butthestrangebrightnessofherpresence，amarvellousradianceofintrinsicvitality，wasaluminousnessofsupremerepudiation，nothingbutrepudiation。
　　Yet，atmoments，sheyieldedandsoftened，shewantedpurelove，onlypurelove。Thisother，thisstateofconstantunfailingrepudiation，wasastrain，asufferingalso。Aterribledesireforpureloveovercameheragain。
　　Shewentoutoneevening，numbedbythisconstantessentialsuffering。
　　Thosewhoaretimedfordestructionmustdienow。Theknowledgeofthisreachedafinality，afinishinginher。Andthefinalityreleasedher。
　　Iffatewouldcarryoffindeathordownfallallthosewhoweretimedtogo，whyneedshetrouble，whyrepudiateanyfurther。Shewasfreeofitall，shecouldseekanewunionelsewhere。
　　UrsulasetofftoWilleyGreen，towardsthemill。ShecametoWilleyWater。Itwasalmostfullagain，afteritsperiodofemptiness。Thensheturnedoffthroughthewoods。Thenighthadfallen，itwasdark。Butsheforgottobeafraid，shewhohadsuchgreatsourcesoffear。Amongthetrees，farfromanyhumanbeings，therewasasortofmagicpeace。Themoreonecouldfindapureloneliness，withnotaintofpeople，thebetteronefelt。Shewasinrealityterrified，horrifiedinherapprehensionofpeople。
　　Shestarted，noticingsomethingonherrighthand，betweenthetreetrunks。Itwaslikeagreatpresence，watchingher，dodgingher。Shestartedviolently。Itwasonlythemoon，risenthroughthethintrees。Butitseemedsomysterious，withitswhiteanddeathlysmile。Andtherewasnoavoidingit。Nightorday，onecouldnotescapethesinisterface，triumphantandradiantlikethismoon，withahighsmile。Shehurriedon，coweringfromthewhiteplanet。Shewouldjustseethepondatthemillbeforeshewenthome。
　　Notwantingtogothroughtheyard，becauseofthedogs，sheturnedoffalongthehill—sidetodescendonthepondfromabove。Themoonwastranscendentoverthebare，openspace，shesufferedfrombeingexposedtoit。Therewasaglimmerofnightlyrabbitsacrosstheground。Thenightwasasclearascrystal，andverystill。Shecouldhearadistantcoughingofasheep。
　　Sosheswerveddowntothesteep，tree—hiddenbankabovethepond，wherethealderstwistedtheirroots。Shewasgladtopassintotheshadeoutofthemoon。Thereshestood，atthetopofthefallen—awaybank，herhandontheroughtrunkofatree，lookingatthewater，thatwasperfectinitsstillness，floatingthemoonuponit。Butforsomereasonshedislikedit。Itdidnotgiveheranything。Shelistenedforthehoarserustleofthesluice。Andshewishedforsomethingelseoutofthenight，shewantedanothernight，notthismoon—brillianthardness。Shecouldfeelhersoulcryingoutinher，lamentingdesolately。
　　Shesawashadowmovingbythewater。ItwouldbeBirkin。Hehadcomebackthen，unawares。Sheaccepteditwithoutremark，nothingmatteredtoher。Shesatdownamongtherootsofthealdertree，dimandveiled，hearingthesoundofthesluicelikedewdistillingaudiblyintothenight。Theislandsweredarkandhalfrevealed，thereedsweredarkalso，onlysomeofthemhadalittlefrailfireofreflection。Afishleapedsecretly，revealingthelightinthepond。Thisfireofthechillnightbreakingconstantlyontothepuredarkness，repelledher。Shewisheditwereperfectlydark，perfectly，andnoiselessandwithoutmotion。Birkin，smallanddarkalso，hishairtingedwithmoonlight，wanderednearer。Hewasquitenear，andyethedidnotexistinher。Hedidnotknowshewasthere。Supposinghedidsomethinghewouldnotwishtobeseendoing，thinkinghewasquiteprivate？Butthere，whatdiditmatter？Whatdidthesmallpriyaciesmatter？
　　Howcoulditmatter，whathedid？Howcantherebeanysecrets，weareallthesameorganisms？Howcantherebeanysecrecy，wheneverythingisknowntoallofus？
　　Hewastouchingunconsciouslythedeadhusksofflowersashepassedby，andtalkingdisconnectedlytohimself。
　　`Youcan'tgoaway，'hewassaying。`Thereisnoaway。Youonlywithdrawuponyourself。'
　　Hethrewadeadflower—huskontothewater。
　　`Anantiphony——theylie，andyousingbacktothem。Therewouldn'thavetobeanytruth，ifthereweren'tanylies。Thenoneneedn'tassertanything——'
　　Hestoodstill，lookingatthewater，andthrowinguponitthehusksoftheflowers。
　　`Cybele——curseher！TheaccursedSyriaDea！Doesonebegrudgeither？
　　Whatelseisthere——？'
　　Ursulawantedtolaughloudlyandhysterically，hearinghisisolatedvoicespeakingout。Itwassoridiculous。
　　Hestoodstaringatthewater。Thenhestoopedandpickedupastone，whichhethrewsharplyatthepond。Ursulawasawareofthebrightmoonleapingandswaying，alldistorted，inhereyes。Itseemedtoshootoutarmsoffirelikeacuttle—fish，likealuminouspolyp，palpitatingstronglybeforeher。
　　Andhisshadowontheborderofthepond，waswatchingforafewmoments，thenhestoopedandgropedontheground。Thenagaintherewasaburstofsound，andaburstofbrilliantlight，themoonhadexplodedonthewater，andwasflyingasunderinflakesofwhiteanddangerousfire。Rapidly，likewhitebirds，thefiresallbrokenroseacrossthepond，fleeinginclamorousconfusion，battlingwiththeflockofdarkwavesthatwereforcingtheirwayin。Thefurthestwavesoflight，fleeingout，seemedtobeclamouringagainsttheshoreforescape，thewavesofdarknesscameinheavily，runningundertowardsthecentre。Butatthecentre，theheartofall，wasstillavivid，incandescentquiveringofawhitemoonnotquitedestroyed，awhitebodyoffirewrithingandstrivingandnotevennowbrokenopen，notyetviolated。Itseemedtobedrawingitselftogetherwithstrange，violentpangs，inblindeffort。Itwasgettingstronger，itwasre—assertingitself，theinviolablemoon。Andtherayswerehasteningininthinlinesoflight，toreturntothestrengthenedmoon，thatshookuponthewaterintriumphantreassumption。
　　Birkinstoodandwatched，motionless，tillthepondwasalmostcalm，themoonwasalmostserene。Then，satisfiedofsomuch，helookedformorestones。Shefelthisinvisibletenacity。Andinamomentagain，thebrokenlightsscatteredinexplosionoverherface，dazzlingher;andthen，almostimmediately，camethesecondshot。Themoonleaptupwhiteandburstthroughtheair。Dartsofbrightlightshotasunder，darknesssweptoverthecentre。
　　Therewasnomoon，onlyabattlefieldofbrokenlightsandshadows，runningclosetogether。Shadows，darkandheavy，struckagainandagainacrosstheplacewheretheheartofthemoonhadbeen，obliteratingitaltogether。
　　Thewhitefragmentspulsedupanddown，andcouldnotfindwheretogo，apartandbrilliantonthewaterlikethepetalsofarosethatawindhasblownfarandwide。
　　Yetagain，theywereflickeringtheirwaytothecentre，findingthepathblindly，enviously。Andagain，allwasstill，asBirkinandUrsulawatched。Thewaterswereloudontheshore。Hesawthemoonregatheringitselfinsidiously，sawtheheartoftheroseintertwiningvigorouslyandblindly，callingbackthescatteredfragments，winninghomethefragments，inapulseandineffortofreturn。
　　Andhewasnotsatisfied。Likeamadness，hemustgoon。Hegotlargestones，andthrewthem，oneaftertheother，atthewhite—burningcentreofthemoon，tilltherewasnothingbutarockingofhollownoise，andapondsurgedup，nomoonanymore，onlyafewbrokenflakestangledandglitteringbroadcastinthedarkness，withoutaimormeaning，adarkenedconfusion，likeablackandwhitekaleidoscopetossedatrandom。Thehollownightwasrockingandcrashingwithnoise，andfromthesluicecamesharp，regularflashesofsound。Flakesoflightappearedhereandthere，glitteringtormentedamongtheshadows，faroff，instrangeplaces;amongthedrippingshadowofthewillowontheisland。Birkinstoodandlistenedandwassatisfied。
　　Ursulawasdazed，hermindwasallgone。Shefeltshehadfallentothegroundandwasspilledout，likewaterontheearth。Motionlessandspentsheremainedinthegloom。Thoughevennowshewasaware，unseeing，thatinthedarknesswasalittletumultofebbingflakesoflight，aclusterdancingsecretlyinaround，twiningandcomingsteadilytogether。Theyweregatheringaheartagain，theywerecomingoncemoreintobeing。Graduallythefragmentscaughttogetherre—united，heaving，rocking，dancing，fallingbackasinpanic，butworkingtheirwayhomeagainpersistently，makingsemblanceoffleeingawaywhentheyhadadvanced，butalwaysflickeringnearer，alittleclosertothemark，theclustergrowingmysteriouslylargerandbrighter，asgleamaftergleamfellinwiththewhole，untilaraggedrose，adistorted，frayedmoonwasshakinguponthewatersagain，re—asserted，renewed，tryingtorecoverfromitsconvulsion，togetoverthedisfigurementandtheagitation，tobewholeandcomposed，atpeace。
　　Birkinlingeredvaguelybythewater。Ursulawasafraidthathewouldstonethemoonagain。Sheslippedfromherseatandwentdowntohim，saying:
　　`Youwon'tthrowstonesatitanymore，willyou？'
　　`Howlonghaveyoubeenthere？'
　　`Allthetime。Youwon'tthrowanymorestones，willyou？'
　　`IwantedtoseeifIcouldmakeitbequitegoneoffthepond，'hesaid。
　　`Yes，itwashorrible，really。Whyshouldyouhatethemoon？Ithasn'tdoneyouanyharm，hasit？'
　　`Wasithate？'hesaid。
　　Andtheyweresilentforafewminutes。
　　`Whendidyoucomeback？'shesaid。
　　`Today。'
　　`Whydidyouneverwrite？'
　　`Icouldfindnothingtosay。'
　　`Whywastherenothingtosay？'
　　`Idon'tknow。Whyaretherenodaffodilsnow？'
　　`No。'
　　Againtherewasaspaceofsilence。Ursulalookedatthemoon。Ithadgathereditselftogether，andwasquiveringslightly。
　　`Wasitgoodforyou，tobealone？'sheasked。
　　`Perhaps。NotthatIknowmuch。ButIgotoveragooddeal。Didyoudoanythingimportant？'
　　`No。IlookedatEngland，andthoughtI'ddonewithit。'
　　`WhyEngland？'heaskedinsurprise。
　　`Idon'tknow，itcamelikethat。'
　　`Itisn'taquestionofnations，'hesaid。`Franceisfarworse。'
　　`Yes，Iknow。IfeltI'ddonewithitall。'
　　Theywentandsatdownontherootsofthetrees，intheshadow。Andbeingsilent，herememberedthebeautyofhereyes，whichweresometimesfilledwithlight，likespring，suffusedwithwonderfulpromise。Sohesaidtoher，slowly，withdifficulty:
　　`Thereisagoldenlightinyou，whichIwishyouwouldgiveme。'Itwasasifhehadbeenthinkingofthisforsometime。
　　Shewasstartled，sheseemedtoleapclearofhim。Yetalsoshewaspleased。
　　`Whatkindofalight，'sheasked。
　　Buthewasshy，anddidnotsayanymore。Sothemomentpassedforthistime。Andgraduallyafeelingofsorrowcameoverher。
　　`Mylifeisunfulfilled，'shesaid。
　　`Yes，'heansweredbriefly，notwantingtohearthis。
　　`AndIfeelasifnobodycouldeverreallyloveme，'shesaid。
　　Buthedidnotanswer。
　　`Youthink，don'tyou，'shesaidslowly，`thatIonlywantphysicalthings？Itisn'ttrue。Iwantyoutoservemyspirit。'
　　`Iknowyoudo。Iknowyoudon'twantphysicalthingsbythemselves。
　　But，Iwantyoutogiveme——togiveyourspirittome——thatgoldenlightwhichisyou——whichyoudon'tknow——giveitme——'
　　Afteramoment'ssilenceshereplied:
　　`ButhowcanI，youdon'tloveme！Youonlywantyourownends。Youdon'twanttoserveme，andyetyouwantmetoserveyou。Itissoone—sided！'
　　Itwasagreatefforttohimtomaintainthisconversation，andtopressforthethinghewantedfromher，thesurrenderofherspirit。
　　`Itisdifferent，'hesaid。`Thetwokindsofservicearesodifferent。
　　Iserveyouinanotherway——notthroughyourself——somewhereelse。ButIwantustobetogetherwithoutbotheringaboutourselves——
　　tobereallytogetherbecausewearetogether，asifitwereaphenomenon，notanotathingwehavetomaintainbyourowneffort。'
　　`No，'shesaid，pondering。`Youarejustegocentric。Youneverhaveanyenthusiasm，younevercomeoutwithanysparktowardsme。Youwantyourself，really，andyourownaffairs。Andyouwantmejusttobethere，toserveyou。'
　　Butthisonlymadehimshutofffromher。
　　`Ahwell，'hesaid，`wordsmakenomatter，anyway。Thethingisbetweenus，oritisn't。'
　　`Youdon'tevenloveme，'shecried。
　　`Ido，'hesaidangrily。`ButIwant——'Hismindsawagainthelovelygoldenlightofspringtransfusedthroughhereyes，asthroughsomewonderfulwindow。Andhewantedhertobewithhimthere，inthisworldofproudindifference。Butwhatwasthegoodoftellingherhewantedthiscompanyinproudindifference。Whatwasthegoodoftalking，anyway？Itmusthappenbeyondthesoundofwords。Itwasmerelyruinoustotrytoworkherbyconviction。Thiswasaparadisalbirdthatcouldneverbenetted，itmustflybyitselftotheheart。
　　`IalwaysthinkIamgoingtobeloved——andthenIamletdown。Youdon'tloveme，youknow。Youdon'twanttoserveme。Youonlywantyourself。'
　　Ashiverofragewentoverhisveins，atthisrepeated:`Youdon'twanttoserveme。'Alltheparadisaldisappearedfromhim。
　　`No，'hesaid，irritated，`Idon'twanttoserveyou，becausethereisnothingtheretoserve。Whatyouwantmetoserve，isnothing，merenothing。Itisn'tevenyou，itisyourmerefemalequality。AndIwouldn'tgiveastrawforyourfemaleego——it'saragdoll。'
　　`Ha！'shelaughedinmockery。`That'sallyouthinkofme，isit？Andthenyouhavetheimpudencetosayyouloveme。'
　　Sheroseinanger，togohome。
　　Youwanttheparadisalunknowing，'shesaid，turningroundonhimashestillsathalf—visibleintheshadow。`Iknowwhatthatmeans，thankyou。Youwantmetobeyourthing，nevertocriticiseyouortohaveanythingtosayformyself。Youwantmetobeamerethingforyou！Nothankyou！Ifyouwantthat，thereareplentyofwomenwhowillgiveittoyou。Thereareplentyofwomenwhowillliedownforyoutowalkoverthem——gotothemthen，ifthat'swhatyouwant——gotothem。'
　　`No，'hesaid，outspokenwithanger。`Iwantyoutodropyourassertivewill，yourfrightenedapprehensiveself—insistence，thatiswhatIwant。Iwantyoutotrustyourselfsoimplicitly，thatyoucanletyourselfgo。'
　　`Letmyselfgo！'shere—echoedinmockery。`Icanletmyselfgo，easilyenough。Itisyouwhocan'tletyourselfgo，itisyouwhohangontoyourselfasifitwereyouronlytreasure。You——youaretheSundayschoolteacher——You——youpreacher。'
　　Theamountoftruththatwasinthismadehimstiffandunheedingofher。
　　`Idon'tmeanletyourselfgointheDionysicecstaticway，'hesaid。
　　`Iknowyoucandothat。ButIhateecstasy，Dionysicoranyother。It'slikegoingroundinasquirrelcage。Iwantyounottocareaboutyourself，justtobethereandnottocareaboutyourself，nottoinsist——begladandsureandindifferent。'
　　`Whoinsists？'shemocked。`Whoisitthatkeepsoninsisting？Itisn'tme！'
　　Therewasaweary，mockingbitternessinhervoice。Hewassilentforsometime。
　　`Iknow，'hesaid。`Whileevereitherofusinsiststotheother，weareallwrong。Butthereweare，theaccorddoesn'tcome。'
　　Theysatinstillnessundertheshadowofthetreesbythebank。Thenightwaswhitearoundthem，theywereinthedarkness，barelyconscious。
　　Gradually，thestillnessandpeacecameoverthem。Sheputherhandtentativelyonhis。Theirhandsclaspedsoftlyandsilently，inpeace。
　　`Doyoureallyloveme？'shesaid。
　　Helaughed。
　　`Icallthatyourwar—cry，'hereplied，amused。
　　`Why！'shecried，amusedandreallywondering。
　　`Yourinsistence——Yourwar—cry——"ABrangwen，ABrangwen"——anoldbattle—cry。Yoursis，"Doyouloveme？Yieldknave，ordie。"'
　　`No，'shesaid，pleading，`notlikethat。Notlikethat。ButImustknowthatyouloveme，mustn'tI？'
　　`Wellthen，knowitandhavedonewithit。'
　　`Butdoyou？'
　　`Yes，Ido。Iloveyou，andIknowit'sfinal。Itisfinal，sowhysayanymoreaboutit。'
　　Shewassilentforsomemoments，indelightanddoubt。
　　`Areyousure？'shesaid，nestlinghappilyneartohim。
　　`Quitesure——sonowhavedone——acceptitandhavedone。'
　　Shewasnestledquiteclosetohim。
　　`Havedonewithwhat？'shemurmured，happily。
　　`Withbothering，'hesaid。
　　Sheclungnearertohim。Heheldherclose，andkissedhersoftly，gently。
　　Itwassuchpeaceandheavenlyfreedom，justtofoldherandkisshergently，andnottohaveanythoughtsoranydesiresoranywill，justtobestillwithher，tobeperfectlystillandtogether，inapeacethatwasnotsleep，butcontentinbliss。Tobecontentinbliss，withoutdesireorinsistenceanywhere，thiswasheaven:tobetogetherinhappystillness。
　　Foralongtimeshenestledtohim，andhekissedhersoftly，herhair，herface，herears，gently，softly，likedewfalling。Butthiswarmbreathonherearsdisturbedheragain，kindledtheolddestructivefires。Shecleavedtohim，andhecouldfeelhisbloodchanginglikequicksilver。
　　`Butwe'llbestill，shallwe？'hesaid。
　　`Yes，'shesaid，asifsubmissively。
　　Andshecontinuedtonestleagainsthim。
　　Butinalittlewhileshedrewawayandlookedathim。
　　`Imustbegoinghome，'shesaid。
　　`Mustyou——howsad，'hereplied。
　　Sheleanedforwardandputuphermouthtobekissed。
　　`Areyoureallysad？'shemurmured，smiling。
　　`Yes，'hesaid，`Iwishwecouldstayaswewere，always。'
　　`Always！Doyou？'shemurmured，ashekissedher。Andthen，outofafullthroat，shecrooned`Kissme！Kissme！'Andshecleavedclosetohim。
　　Hekissedhermanytimes。Buthetoohadhisideaandhiswill。Hewantedonlygentlecommunion，noother，nopassionnow。Sothatsoonshedrewaway，putonherhatandwenthome。
　　Thenextdayhowever，hefeltwistfulandyearning。Hethoughthehadbeenwrong，perhaps。Perhapshehadbeenwrongtogotoherwithanideaofwhathewanted。Wasitreallyonlyanidea，orwasittheinterpretationofaprofoundyearning？Ifthelatter，howwasithewasalwaystalkingaboutsensualfulfilment？Thetwodidnotagreeverywell。
　　Suddenlyhefoundhimselffacetofacewithasituation。Itwasassimpleasthis:fatallysimple。Ontheonehand，heknewhedidnotwantafurthersensualexperience——somethingdeeper，darker，thanordinarylifecouldgive。HerememberedtheAfricanfetisheshehadseenatHalliday'ssooften。
　　Therecamebacktohimone，astatuetteabouttwofeethigh，atall，slim，elegantfigurefromWestAfrica，indarkwood，glossyandsuave。Itwasawoman，withhairdressedhigh，likeamelon—shapeddome。Herememberedhervividly:shewasoneofhissoul'sintimates。Herbodywaslongandelegant，herfacewascrushedtinylikeabeetle's，shehadrowsofroundheavycollars，likeacolumnofquoits，onherneck。Herememberedher:
　　herastonishingculturedelegance，herdiminished，beetleface，theastoundinglongelegantbody，onshort，uglylegs，withsuchprotuberantbuttocks，soweightyandunexpectedbelowherslimlongloins。Sheknewwhathehimselfdidnotknow。Shehadthousandsofyearsofpurelysensual，purelyunspiritualknowledgebehindher。Itmusthavebeenthousandsofyearssinceherracehaddied，mystically:thatis，sincetherelationbetweenthesensesandtheoutspokenmindhadbroken，leavingtheexperienceallinonesort，mysticallysensual。Thousandsofyearsago，thatwhichwasimminentinhimselfmusthavetakenplaceintheseAfricans:thegoodness，theholiness，thedesireforcreationandproductivehappinessmusthavelapsed，leavingthesingleimpulseforknowledgeinonesort，mindlessprogressiveknowledgethroughthesenses，knowledgearrestedandendinginthesenses，mysticknowledgeindisintegrationanddissolution，knowledgesuchasthebeetleshave，whichlivepurelywithintheworldofcorruptionandcolddissolution。
　　Thiswaswhyherfacelookedlikeabeetle's:thiswaswhytheEgyptiansworshippedtheball—rollingscarab:becauseoftheprincipleofknowledgeindissolutionandcorruption。
　　Thereisalongwaywecantravel，afterthedeath—break:afterthatpointwhenthesoulinintensesufferingbreaks，breaksawayfromitsorganicholdlikealeafthatfalls。Wefallfromtheconnectionwithlifeandhope，welapsefrompureintegralbeing，fromcreationandliberty，andwefallintothelong，longAfricanprocessofpurelysensualunderstanding，knowledgeinthemysteryofdissolution。
　　Herealisednowthatthisisalongprocess——thousandsofyearsittakes，afterthedeathofthecreativespirit。Herealisedthatthereweregreatmysteriestobeunsealed，sensual，mindless，dreadfulmysteries，farbeyondthephalliccult。Howfar，intheirinvertedculture，hadtheseWestAfricansgonebeyondphallicknowledge？Very，veryfar。Birkinrecalledagainthefemalefigure:theelongated，long，longbody，thecuriousunexpectedheavybuttocks，helong，imprisonedneck，thefacewithtinyfeatureslikeabeetle's。Thiswasfarbeyondanyphallicknowledge，sensualsubtlerealitiesfarbeyondthescopeofphallicinvestigation。
　　Thereremainedthisway，thisawfulAfricanprocess，tobefulfilled。
　　Itwouldbedonedifferentlybythewhiteraces。Thewhiteraces，havingthearcticnorthbehindthem，thevastabstractionoficeandsnow，wouldfulfilamysteryofice—destructiveknowledge，snow—abstractannihilation。
　　WhereastheWestAfricans，controlledbytheburningdeath—abstractionoftheSahara，hadbeenfulfilledinsun—destruction，theputrescentmysteryofsun—rays。
　　Wasthisthenallthatremained？Wasthereleftnownothingbuttobreakofffromthehappycreativebeing，wasthetimeup？Isourdayofcreativelifefinished？Doesthereremaintousonlythestrange，awfulafterwardsoftheknowledgeindissolution，theAfricanknowledge，butdifferentinus，whoareblondandblue—eyedfromthenorth？
　　BirkinthoughtofGerald。Hewasoneofthesestrangewhitewonderfuldemonsfromthenorth，fulfilledinthedestructivefrostmystery。Andwashefatedtopassawayinthisknowledge，thisoneprocessoffrost—knowledge，deathbyperfectcold？Washeamessenger，anomenoftheuniversaldissolutionintowhitenessandsnow？
　　Birkinwasfrightened。Hewastiredtoo，whenhehadreachedthislengthofspeculation。Suddenlyhisstrange，strainedattentiongaveway，hecouldnotattendtothesemysteriesanymore。Therewasanotherway，thewayoffreedom。Therewastheparadisalentryintopure，singlebeing，theindividualsoultakingprecedenceoverloveanddesireforunion，strongerthananypangsofemotion，alovelystateoffreeproudsingleness，whichacceptedtheobligationofthepermanentconnectionwithothers，andwiththeother，submitstotheyokeandleashoflove，butneverforfeitsitsownproudindividualsingleness，evenwhileitlovesandyields。
　　Therewastheotherway，theremainingway。Andhemustruntofollowit。HethoughtofUrsula，howsensitiveanddelicateshereallywas，herskinsoover—fine，asifoneskinwerewanting。Shewasreallysomarvellouslygentleandsensitive。Whydidheeverforgetit？Hemustgotoheratonce。
　　Hemustaskhertomarryhim。Theymustmarryatonce，andsomakeadefinitepledge，enterintoadefinitecommunion。Hemustsetoutatonceandaskher，thismoment。Therewasnomomenttospare。
　　HedriftedonswiftlytoBeldover，half—unconsciousofhisownmovement。
　　Hesawthetownontheslopeofthehill，notstraggling，butasifwalled—inwiththestraight，finalstreetsofminers'dwellings，makingagreatsquare，anditlookedlikeJerusalemtohisfancy。Theworldwasallstrangeandtranscendent。
　　Rosalindopenedthedoortohim。Shestartedslightly，asayounggirlwill，andsaid:
　　`Oh，I'lltellfather。'
　　Withwhichshedisappeared，leavingBirkininthehall，lookingatsomereproductionsfromPicasso，latelyintroducedbyGudrun。Hewasadmiringthealmostwizard，sensuousapprehensionoftheearth，whenWillBrangwenappeared，rollingdownhisshirtsleeves。
　　`Well，'saidBrangwen，`I'llgetacoat。'Andhetoodisappearedforamoment。Thenhereturned，andopenedthedoorofthedrawing—room，saying:
　　`Youmustexcuseme，Iwasjustdoingabitofworkintheshed。Comeinside，willyou。'
　　Birkinenteredandsatdown。Helookedatthebright，reddishfaceoftheotherman，atthenarrowbrowandtheverybrighteyes，andattherathersensuallipsthatunrolledwideandexpansiveundertheblackcroppedmoustache。Howcuriousitwasthatthiswasahumanbeing！WhatBrangwenthoughthimselftobe，howmeaninglessitwas，confrontedwiththerealityofhim。Birkincouldseeonlyastrange，inexplicable，almostpatternlesscollectionofpassionsanddesiresandsuppressionsandtraditionsandmechanicalideas，allcastunfusedanddisunitedintothisslender，bright—facedmanofnearlyfifty，whowasasunresolvednowashewasattwenty，andasuncreated。HowcouldhebetheparentofUrsula，whenhewasnotcreatedhimself。Hewasnotaparent。Aslipoflivingfleshhadbeentransmittedthroughhim，butthespirithadnotcomefromhim。Thespirithadnotcomefromanyancestor，ithadcomeoutoftheunknown。Achildisthechildofthemystery，oritisuncreated。
　　`Theweather'snotsobadasithasbeen，'saidBrangwen，afterwaitingamoment。Therewasnoconnectionbetweenthetwomen。
　　`No，'saidBirkin。`Itwasfullmoontwodaysago。'
　　`Oh！Youbelieveinthemoonthen，affectingtheweather？'
　　`No，Idon'tthinkIdo。Idon'treallyknowenoughaboutit。'