looking at the sun. Then, suddenly affecting to have no connection at all with the two people, he went trotting off, with assumed spontaneity and gaiety, his tail erect, his white feet blithe.

‘Now he will find the belle sauvage once more, and entertain her with his superior wisdom,’ laughed Birkin.

Ursula looked at the man who stood in the garden with his hair blowing and his eyes smiling ironically, and she cried:

‘Oh it makes me so cross, this assumption of male superiority! And it is such a lie! One wouldn’t mind if there were any justification for it.’

‘The wild cat,’ said Birkin, ‘doesn’t mind. She perceives that it is justified.’