Women in Love

straight, final streets of miners’ dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent.

Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said:

“Oh, I’ll tell father.”

With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves.

“Well,” said Brangwen, “I’ll get a coat.” And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying:

“You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you.”

Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow

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