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

"Women in Love"


'It doesn't hurt you very much, does it?' he asked, solicitous.
'Not at all,' she cried.
And suddenly the rabbit, which had been crouching as if it were a
flower, so still and soft, suddenly burst into life. Round and round
the court it went, as if shot from a gun, round and round like a furry
meteorite, in a tense hard circle that seemed to bind their brains.
They all stood in amazement, smiling uncannily, as if the rabbit were
obeying some unknown incantation. Round and round it flew, on the grass
under the old red walls like a storm.
And then quite suddenly it settled down, hobbled among the grass, and
sat considering, its nose twitching like a bit of fluff in the wind.
After having considered for a few minutes, a soft bunch with a black,
open eye, which perhaps was looking at them, perhaps was not, it
hobbled calmly forward and began to nibble the grass with that mean
motion of a rabbit's quick eating.
'It's mad,' said Gudrun. 'It is most decidedly mad.'
He laughed.
'The question is,' he said, 'what is madness? I don't suppose it is
rabbit-mad.


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