It clicked. He held still. The bed-clothes rustled.
His heart did not beat. Then again he drew the latch back, and very
gently pushed the door. It made a sticking noise as it gave.
'Ursula?' said Gudrun's voice, frightened. He quickly opened the door
and pushed it behind him.
'Is it you, Ursula?' came Gudrun's frightened voice. He heard her
sitting up in bed. In another moment she would scream.
'No, it's me,' he said, feeling his way towards her. 'It is I, Gerald.'
She sat motionless in her bed in sheer astonishment. She was too
astonished, too much taken by surprise, even to be afraid.
'Gerald!' she echoed, in blank amazement. He had found his way to the
bed, and his outstretched hand touched her warm breast blindly. She
shrank away.
'Let me make a light,' she said, springing out.
He stood perfectly motionless. He heard her touch the match-box, he
heard her fingers in their movement. Then he saw her in the light of a
match, which she held to the candle. The light rose in the room, then
sank to a small dimness, as the flame sank down on the candle, before
it mounted again.
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