'What's the matter, really?' said Gerald, turning to Gudrun.
This was an assumption of a sort of intimacy that irritated Gudrun
almost like an affront. It seemed to her that Gerald was deliberately
insulting her, and infringing on the decent privacy of them all.
'What is it?' she said, in her high, repellent voice. 'Don't ask me!--I
know nothing about ULTIMATE marriage, I assure you: or even
penultimate.'
'Only the ordinary unwarrantable brand!' replied Gerald. 'Just so--same
here. I am no expert on marriage, and degrees of ultimateness. It seems
to be a bee that buzzes loudly in Rupert's bonnet.'
'Exactly! But that is his trouble, exactly! Instead of wanting a woman
for herself, he wants his IDEAS fulfilled. Which, when it comes to
actual practice, is not good enough.'
'Oh no. Best go slap for what's womanly in woman, like a bull at a
gate.' Then he seemed to glimmer in himself. 'You think love is the
ticket, do you?' he asked.
'Certainly, while it lasts--you only can't insist on permanency,' came
Gudrun's voice, strident above the noise.
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