'
Birkin shook his head.
'The Amazon suddenly came up in her, I suppose,' he said.
'Well,' replied Gerald, 'I'd rather it had been the Orinoco.'
They both laughed at the poor joke. Gerald was thinking how Gudrun had
said she would strike the last blow too. But some reserve made him keep
this back from Birkin.
'And you resent it?' Birkin asked.
'I don't resent it. I don't care a tinker's curse about it.' He was
silent a moment, then he added, laughing. 'No, I'll see it through,
that's all. She seemed sorry afterwards.'
'Did she? You've not met since that night?'
Gerald's face clouded.
'No,' he said. 'We've been--you can imagine how it's been, since the
accident.'
'Yes. Is it calming down?'
'I don't know. It's a shock, of course. But I don't believe mother
minds. I really don't believe she takes any notice. And what's so
funny, she used to be all for the children--nothing mattered, nothing
whatever mattered but the children. And now, she doesn't take any more
notice than if it was one of the servants.
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