He wore silk socks, and studs of fine workmanship,
and silk underclothing, and silk braces. Curious! This was another of
the differences between them. Birkin was careless and unimaginative
about his own appearance.
'Of course you,' said Gerald, as if he had been thinking; 'there's
something curious about you. You're curiously strong. One doesn't
expect it, it is rather surprising.'
Birkin laughed. He was looking at the handsome figure of the other man,
blond and comely in the rich robe, and he was half thinking of the
difference between it and himself--so different; as far, perhaps, apart
as man from woman, yet in another direction. But really it was Ursula,
it was the woman who was gaining ascendance over Birkin's being, at
this moment. Gerald was becoming dim again, lapsing out of him.
'Do you know,' he said suddenly, 'I went and proposed to Ursula
Brangwen tonight, that she should marry me.'
He saw the blank shining wonder come over Gerald's face.
'You did?'
'Yes. Almost formally--speaking first to her father, as it should be,
in the world--though that was accident--or mischief.
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