again； as when she had been at school； they walked out into the
town to tea。 And they went to the same tea…shop。
She knew a great difference in him。 The kinship was there；
the old kinship； but he had belonged to a different world from
hers。 It was as if they had cried a state of truce between him
and her； and in this truce they had met。 She knew； vaguely； in
the first minute； that they were enemies e together in a
truce。 Every movement and word of his was alien to her
being。
Yet still she loved the fine texture of his face； of his
skin。 He was rather browner； physically stronger。 He was a man
now。 She thought his manliness made the strangeness in him。 When
he was only a youth； fluid； he was nearer to her。 She thought a
man must inevitably set into this strange separateness； cold
otherness of being。 He talked； but not to her。 She tried to
speak to him； but she could not reach him。
He seemed so balanced and sure； he made such a confident
presence。 He was a great rider； so there was about him some of a
horseman's sureness and habitual definiteness of decision； also
some of the horseman's animal darkness。 Yet his soul was only
the more wavering； vague。 He seemed made up of a set of habitual
actions and decisions。 The vulnerable； variable quick of the man
was inaccessible。 She knew nothing of it。 She could only feel
the dark； heavy fixity of his animal desire。
This dumb desire on his part had brought him to her？ She was
puzzled； hurt by some hopeless fixity in him； that terrified her
with a cold feeling of despair。 What did he want？ His desires
were so underground。 Why did he not admit himself？ What did he
want？ He wanted something that should be nameless。 She shrank in
fear。
Yet she flashed with excitement。 In his dark； subterranean
male soul； he was kneeling before her； darkly exposing himself。
She quivered； the dark flame ran over her。 He was waiting at her
feet。 He was helpless； at her mercy。 She could take or reject。
If she rejected him； something would die in him。 For him it was
life or death。 And yet； all must be kept so dark； the
consciousness must admit nothing。
〃How long；〃 she said； 〃are you staying in England？〃
〃I am not sure……but not later than July； I believe。〃
Then they were both silent。 He was here； in England； for six
months。 They had a space of six months between them。 He waited。
The same iron rigidity； as if the world were made of steel；
possessed her again。 It was no use turning with flesh and blood
to this arrangement of forged metal。
Quickly； her imagination adjusted itself to the
situation。
〃Have you an appointment in India？〃 she asked。
〃Yes……I have just the six months' leave。〃
〃Will you like being out there？〃
〃I think so……there's a good deal of social life； and
plenty going on……hunting； polo……and always a good
horse……and plenty of work； any amount of work。〃
He was always side…tracking； always side…tracking his own
soul。 She could see him so well out there； in India……one of
the governing class； superimposed upon an old civilization； lord
and master of a clumsier civilization than his own。 It was his
choice。 He would bee again an aristocrat； invested with
authority and responsibility； having a great helpless populace
beneath him。 One of the ruling class； his whole being would be
given over to the fulfilling and the executing of the better
idea of the state。 And in India； there would be real work to do。
The country did need the civilization which he himself
represented： it did need his roads and bridges； and the
enlightenment of which he was part。 He would go to India。 But
that was not her road。
Yet she loved him； the body of him； whatever his decisions
might be。 He seemed to want something of her。 He was waiting for
her to decide of him。 It had been decided in her long ago； when
he had kissed her first。 He was her lover； though good and evil
should cease。 Her will never relaxed； though her heart and soul
must be imprisoned and silenced。 He waited upon her； and she
accepted him。 For he had e back to her。
A glow came into his face； into his fine； smooth skin； his
eyes； gold…grey； glowed intimately to her。 He burned up； he
caught fire and became splendid； royal； something like a tiger。
She caught his brilliant； burnished glamour。 Her heart and her
soul were shut away fast down below； hidden。 She was free of
them。 She was to have her satisfaction。
She became proud and erect； like a flower； putting itself
forth in its proper strength。 His warmth invigorated her。 His
beauty of form； which seemed to glow out in contrast with the
rest of people； made her proud。 It was like deference to her；
and made her feel as if she represented before him all the grace
and flower of humanity。 She was no mere Ursula Brangwen。 She was
Woman； she was the whole of Woman in the human order。
All…containing； universal； how should she be limited to
individuality？
She was exhilarated； she did not want to go away from him。
She had her place by him。 Who should take her away？
They came out of the cafe。
〃Is there anything you would like to do？〃 he said。 〃Is there
anything we can do？〃
It was a dark； windy night in March。
〃There is nothing to do；〃 she said。
Which was the answer he wanted。
〃Let us walk then……where shall we walk？〃 he asked。
〃Shall we go to the river？〃 she suggested； timidly。
In a moment they were on the tram； going down to Trent
Bridge。 She was so glad。 The thought of walking in the dark；
far…reaching water…meadows； beside the full river； transported
her。 Dark water flowing in silence through the big； restless
night made her feel wild。
They crossed the bridge； descended； and went away from the
lights。 In an instant； in the darkness； he took her hand and
they went in silence； with subtle feet treading the darkness。
The town fumed away on their left； there were strange lights and
sounds； the wind rushed against the trees； and under the bridge。
They walked close together； powerful in unison。 He drew her very
close； held her with a subtle； stealthy； powerful passion； as if
they had a secret agreement which held good in the profound
darkness。 The profound darkness was their universe。
〃It is like it was before；〃 she said。
Yet it was not in the least as it was before。 Nevertheless
his heart was perfectly in accord with her。 They thought one
thought。
〃I knew I should e back；〃 he said at length。
She quivered。
〃Did you always love me？〃 she asked。
The directness of the question overcame him； submerged him
for a moment。 The darkness travelled massively along。
〃I had to e back to you；〃 he said； as if hypnotized。 〃You
were always at the back of everything。〃
She was silent with triumph； like fate。
〃I loved you；〃 she said； 〃always。〃
The dark flame leaped up in him。 He must give her himself。 He
must give her the very foundations of himself。 He drew her very
close； and they went on in silence。
She started violently； hearing voices。 They were near a stile
across the dark meadows。
〃It's only lovers；〃 he said to her； softly。
She looked to see the dark figures against the fence；
wondering that the darkness was inhabited。
〃Only lovers will walk here to…night；〃 he said。
Then in a low； vibrating voice he told her about Africa； the
strange darkness； the strange； blood fear。
〃I am not afraid of the darkness in England；〃 he said。 〃It is
soft； and natural to me； it is my medium； especially when you
are here。 But in Africa it seems massive and fluid with
terror……not fear of anything……just fear。 One breathes
it； like the smell of blood。 The blacks know it。 They worship
it； really； the darkness。 One almost likes it……the
fear……something sensual。〃
She thrilled again to him。 He was to her a voice out of the
darkness。 He talked to her all the while； in low tones； about
Africa； conveying something strange and sensual to her： the
negro； with his loose； soft passion that could envelop one like
a bath。 Gradually he transferred to her the hot； fecund darkness
that possessed his own blood。 He was strangely secret。 The whole
world must be abolished。 He maddened her with his soft；
cajoling； vibrating tones。 He wanted her to answer； to
understand。 A tu