Women in Love

away. You only withdraw upon yourself.”

He threw a dead flower-husk on to the water.

“An antiphony—they lie, and you sing back to them. There wouldn’t have to be any truth, if there weren’t any lies. Then one needn’t assert anything—”

He stood still, looking at the water, and throwing upon it the husks of the flowers.

“Cybele—curse her! The accursed Syria Dea! Does one begrudge it her? What else is there—?”

Ursula wanted to laugh loudly and hysterically, hearing his isolated voice speaking out. It was so ridiculous.

He stood staring at the water. Then he stooped and picked up a stone, which he threw sharply at the pond. Ursula was aware of the bright moon leaping and swaying, all distorted, in her eyes. It seemed to shoot out arms of fire like a cuttle-fish, like a luminous polyp, palpitating strongly before her.

← Page-632 p.633 Page-634 →