They acted and reacted involuntarily according to a few great laws, and
once the laws, the great principles, were known, people were no longer
mystically interesting. They were all essentially alike, the
differences were only variations on a theme. None of them transcended
the given terms.
Ursula did not agree-people were still an adventure to her-but-perhaps
not as much as she tried to persuade herself. Perhaps there was
something mechanical, now, in her interest. Perhaps also her interest
was destructive, her analysing was a real tearing to pieces. There was
an under-space in her where she did not care for people and their
idiosyncracies, even to destroy them. She seemed to touch for a moment
this undersilence in herself, she became still, and she turned for a
moment purely to Birkin.
'Won't it be lovely to go home in the dark?' she said. 'We might have
tea rather late-shall we?-and have high tea? Wouldn't that be rather
nice?'
'I promised to be at Shortlands for dinner,' he said.
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