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

"Women in Love"


'Don't, for MY sake, have an accident--because I'm responsible for the
water.'
'Sure,' pledged Gudrun.
'Besides, we can both swim quite well,' said Ursula.
'Well--then I'll get them to put you up a tea-basket, and you can
picnic all to yourselves,--that's the idea, isn't it?'
'How fearfully good! How frightfully nice if you could!' cried Gudrun
warmly, her colour flushing up again. It made the blood stir in his
veins, the subtle way she turned to him and infused her gratitude into
his body.
'Where's Birkin?' he said, his eyes twinkling. 'He might help me to get
it down.'
'But what about your hand? Isn't it hurt?' asked Gudrun, rather muted,
as if avoiding the intimacy. This was the first time the hurt had been
mentioned. The curious way she skirted round the subject sent a new,
subtle caress through his veins. He took his hand out of his pocket. It
was bandaged. He looked at it, then put it in his pocket again. Gudrun
quivered at the sight of the wrapped up paw.
'Oh I can manage with one hand.


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