'
'Certainly!' cried Gudrun, flushed and inflammable. 'What can be worse
than this public grief--what is more horrible, more false! If GRIEF is
not private, and hidden, what is?'
'Exactly,' he said. 'I felt ashamed when I was there and they were all
going about in a lugubrious false way, feeling they must not be natural
or ordinary.'
'Well--' said Mrs Brangwen, offended at this criticism, 'it isn't so
easy to bear a trouble like that.'
And she went upstairs to the children.
He remained only a few minutes longer, then took his leave. When he was
gone Ursula felt such a poignant hatred of him, that all her brain
seemed turned into a sharp crystal of fine hatred. Her whole nature
seemed sharpened and intensified into a pure dart of hate. She could
not imagine what it was. It merely took hold of her, the most poignant
and ultimate hatred, pure and clear and beyond thought. She could not
think of it at all, she was translated beyond herself. It was like a
possession. She felt she was possessed.
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