'No, no more aren't we,' said the young woman loudly. 'But we shall be,
a Saturday.'
Again she looked at the young man with a determined, protective look,
at once overbearing and very gentle. He grinned sicklily, turning away
his head. She had got his manhood, but Lord, what did he care! He had a
strange furtive pride and slinking singleness.
'Good luck to you,' said Birkin.
'Same to you,' said the young woman. Then, rather tentatively: 'When's
yours coming off, then?'
Birkin looked round at Ursula.
'It's for the lady to say,' he replied. 'We go to the registrar the
moment she's ready.'
Ursula laughed, covered with confusion and bewilderment.
'No 'urry,' said the young man, grinning suggestive.
'Oh, don't break your neck to get there,' said the young woman. ''Slike
when you're dead--you're long time married.'
The young man turned aside as if this hit him.
'The longer the better, let us hope,' said Birkin.
'That's it, guvnor,' said the young man admiringly. 'Enjoy it while it
larsts--niver whip a dead donkey.
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