ever, leave for ever their strange, soft, half-corrupt element. Anything to get away.

One night Winifred came all burning into Ursula's bed, and put her arms round the girl, holding her to herself in spite of unwillingness, and said,

“Dear, my dear — shall I marry Mr.

Brangwen — shall I?”

The clinging, heavy, muddy question weighed on Ursula intolerably.

“Has he asked you?” she said, using all her might of hard resistance.

“He's asked me,” said Winifred. “Do you want me to marry him, Ursula?”

“Yes,” said Ursula.