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Lawrence, D. H. (David Herbert), 1885-1930

"Women in Love"


He adjusted himself at once, became normally distant.
'If I find I can live sufficiently by myself,' he continued, 'I shall
give up my work altogether. It has become dead to me. I don't believe
in the humanity I pretend to be part of, I don't care a straw for the
social ideals I live by, I hate the dying organic form of social
mankind--so it can't be anything but trumpery, to work at education. I
shall drop it as soon as I am clear enough--tomorrow perhaps--and be by
myself.'
'Have you enough to live on?' asked Ursula.
'Yes--I've about four hundred a year. That makes it easy for me.'
There was a pause.
'And what about Hermione?' asked Ursula.
'That's over, finally--a pure failure, and never could have been
anything else.'
'But you still know each other?'
'We could hardly pretend to be strangers, could we?'
There was a stubborn pause.
'But isn't that a half-measure?' asked Ursula at length.
'I don't think so,' he said. 'You'll be able to tell me if it is.'
Again there was a pause of some minutes' duration.


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