Women in Love by D H Lawrence Chapter 18 Page 31

suppose it is rabbit-mad.’

‘Don’t you think it is?’ she asked.

‘No. That’s what it is to be a rabbit.’

There was a queer, faint, obscene smile over his face. She looked at him and saw him, and knew that he was initiate as she was initiate. This thwarted her, and contravened her, for the moment.

‘God be praised we aren’t rabbits,’ she said, in a high, shrill voice.

The smile intensified a little, on his face.

‘Not rabbits?’ he said, looking at her fixedly.

Slowly her face relaxed into a smile of obscene recognition.