But her dress was both shabby and soiled,
even rather dirty.
'You would like to see your rooms now, wouldn't you! Yes. We will go up
now, shall we?'
Ursula was glad when she could be left alone in her room. Hermione
lingered so long, made such a stress on one. She stood so near to one,
pressing herself near upon one, in a way that was most embarrassing and
oppressive. She seemed to hinder one's workings.
Lunch was served on the lawn, under the great tree, whose thick,
blackish boughs came down close to the grass. There were present a
young Italian woman, slight and fashionable, a young, athletic-looking
Miss Bradley, a learned, dry Baronet of fifty, who was always making
witticisms and laughing at them heartily in a harsh, horse-laugh, there
was Rupert Birkin, and then a woman secretary, a Fraulein Marz, young
and slim and pretty.
The food was very good, that was one thing. Gudrun, critical of
everything, gave it her full approval. Ursula loved the situation, the
white table by the cedar tree, the scent of new sunshine, the little
vision of the leafy park, with far-off deer feeding peacefully.
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