'
Her face was flushed and transfigured. Loerke who was sitting with his
head ducked, like some creature at bay, looked up at her, swiftly,
almost furtively, and murmured,
'Ja--so ist es, so ist es.'
Ursula was silent after this outburst. She was furious. She wanted to
poke a hole into them both.
'It isn't a word of it true, of all this harangue you have made me,'
she replied flatly. 'The horse is a picture of your own stock, stupid
brutality, and the girl was a girl you loved and tortured and then
ignored.'
He looked up at her with a small smile of contempt in his eyes. He
would not trouble to answer this last charge.
Gudrun too was silent in exasperated contempt. Ursula WAS such an
insufferable outsider, rushing in where angels would fear to tread. But
then--fools must be suffered, if not gladly.
But Ursula was persistent too.
'As for your world of art and your world of reality,' she replied, 'you
have to separate the two, because you can't bear to know what you are.
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