Women in Love

railway platform! Voices were still calling in inhuman agitation through the dark-grey air, spectres were running along the darkness between the train.

“Köln—Berlin—” Ursula made out on the boards hung on the high train on one side.

“Here we are,” said Birkin. And on her side she saw: “Elsass—Lothringen—Luxembourg, Metz—Basle.”

“That was it, Basle!”

The porter came up.

“_À Bâle—deuxième classe?—Voilà!_” And he clambered into the high train. They followed. The compartments were already some of them taken. But many were dim and empty. The luggage was stowed, the porter was tipped.

“_Nous avons encore—?_” said Birkin, looking at his watch and at the porter.

“_Encore une demi-heure._” With which, in his blue blouse, he disappeared. He was ugly and insolent.

← Page-1005 p.1006 Page-1007 →