And they armed each other with knowledge, they
extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was
curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of
the other.
Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their
courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child,
with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the
opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their
activities even overmuch.
'Of course,' she said easily, 'there is a quality of life in Birkin
which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of
life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But
there are so many things in life that he simply doesn't know. Either he
is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely
negligible--things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is
not clever enough, he is too intense in spots.'
'Yes,' cried Ursula, 'too much of a preacher.
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