so banal as to consider me chiefly a freak,’ said Birkin pointedly.

‘A freak!’ exclaimed Gerald, startled. And his face opened suddenly, as if lighted with simplicity, as when a flower opens out of the cunning bud. ‘No — I never consider you a freak.’ And he watched the other man with strange eyes, that Birkin could not understand. ‘I feel,’ Gerald continued, ‘that there is always an element of uncertainty about you — perhaps you are uncertain about yourself. But I’m never sure of you. You can go away and change as easily as if you had no soul.’

He looked at Birkin with penetrating eyes. Birkin was amazed. He thought he had all the soul in the world. He stared in amazement. And Gerald, watching, saw the amazing