Does it matter, whether I drink white wine this evening,
or whether I drink nothing? IT DOES NOT MATTER, it does not matter. So
this love, this amour, this BAISER. Yes or no, soit ou soit pas, today,
tomorrow, or never, it is all the same, it does not matter--no more
than the white wine.'
He ended with an odd dropping of the head in a desperate negation.
Gudrun watched him steadily. She had gone pale.
Suddenly she stretched over and seized his hand in her own.
'That is true,' she said, in rather a high, vehement voice, 'that is
true for me too. It is the understanding that matters.'
He looked up at her almost frightened, furtive. Then he nodded, a
little sullenly. She let go his hand: he had made not the lightest
response. And they sat in silence.
'Do you know,' he said, suddenly looking at her with dark,
self-important, prophetic eyes, 'your fate and mine, they will run
together, till--' and he broke off in a little grimace.
'Till when?' she asked, blanched, her lips going white.
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