said Birkin bitterly. Gerald looked at him strangely, abstractedly.
“Have you?” he said, with icy scepticism. “Or do you think you have?” He was hardly responsible for what he said.
The sledge came. Gudrun dismounted and they all made their farewell. They wanted to go apart, all of them. Birkin took his place, and the sledge drove away leaving Gudrun and Gerald standing on the snow, waving. Something froze Birkin’s heart, seeing them standing there in the isolation of the snow, growing smaller and more isolated.