'No, don't!' she cried, really afraid.
'Cordelia after all,' he said satirically. She was stung, as if this
were an insult. She knew he intended it as such, and it bewildered her.
'And you,' she cried in retort, 'why do you always take your soul in
your mouth, so frightfully full?'
'So that I can spit it out the more readily,' he said, pleased by his
own retort.
Gerald Crich, his face narrowing to an intent gleam, followed up the
hill with quick strides, straight after Gudrun. The cattle stood with
their noses together on the brow of a slope, watching the scene below,
the men in white hovering about the white forms of the women, watching
above all Gudrun, who was advancing slowly towards them. She stood a
moment, glancing back at Gerald, and then at the cattle.
Then in a sudden motion, she lifted her arms and rushed sheer upon the
long-horned bullocks, in shuddering irregular runs, pausing for a
second and looking at them, then lifting her hands and running forward
with a flash, till they ceased pawing the ground, and gave way,
snorting with terror, lifting their heads from the ground and flinging
themselves away, galloping off into the evening, becoming tiny in the
distance, and still not stopping.
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