Gudrun's face hardened.
'Do you REALLY want children, Ursula?' she asked coldly. A dazzled,
baffled look came on Ursula's face.
'One feels it is still beyond one,' she said.
'DO you feel like that?' asked Gudrun. 'I get no feeling whatever from
the thought of bearing children.'
Gudrun looked at Ursula with a masklike, expressionless face. Ursula
knitted her brows.
'Perhaps it isn't genuine,' she faltered. 'Perhaps one doesn't really
want them, in one's soul--only superficially.' A hardness came over
Gudrun's face. She did not want to be too definite.
'When one thinks of other people's children--' said Ursula.
Again Gudrun looked at her sister, almost hostile.
'Exactly,' she said, to close the conversation.
The two sisters worked on in silence, Ursula having always that strange
brightness of an essential flame that is caught, meshed, contravened.
She lived a good deal by herself, to herself, working, passing on from
day to day, and always thinking, trying to lay hold on life, to grasp
it in her own understanding.
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