'There's more fun.'
Hermione could bear no more. She rose, saying in her easy sing-song:
'Isn't the evening beautiful! I get filled sometimes with such a great
sense of beauty, that I feel I can hardly bear it.'
Ursula, to whom she had appealed, rose with her, moved to the last
impersonal depths. And Birkin seemed to her almost a monster of hateful
arrogance. She went with Hermione along the bank of the pond, talking
of beautiful, soothing things, picking the gentle cowslips.
'Wouldn't you like a dress,' said Ursula to Hermione, 'of this yellow
spotted with orange--a cotton dress?'
'Yes,' said Hermione, stopping and looking at the flower, letting the
thought come home to her and soothe her. 'Wouldn't it be pretty? I
should LOVE it.'
And she turned smiling to Ursula, in a feeling of real affection.
But Gerald remained with Birkin, wanting to probe him to the bottom, to
know what he meant by the dual will in horses. A flicker of excitement
danced on Gerald's face.
Hermione and Ursula strayed on together, united in a sudden bond of
deep affection and closeness.
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