Whereas Ursula was still at the emotional personal level-always so
abominably personal. He had taken her as he had never been taken
himself. He had taken her at the roots of her darkness and shame-like a
demon, laughing over the fountain of mystic corruption which was one of
the sources of her being, laughing, shrugging, accepting, accepting
finally. As for her, when would she so much go beyond herself as to
accept him at the quick of death?
She now became quite happy. The motor-car ran on, the afternoon was
soft and dim. She talked with lively interest, analysing people and
their motives-Gudrun, Gerald. He answered vaguely. He was not very much
interested any more in personalities and in people-people were all
different, but they were all enclosed nowadays in a definite
limitation, he said; there were only about two great ideas, two great
streams of activity remaining, with various forms of reaction
therefrom. The reactions were all varied in various people, but they
followed a few great laws, and intrinsically there was no difference.
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