the curious thing. There IS nobody. There’s Rupert Birkin. But then he ISN’T sympathetic, he wants to DICTATE. And that is no use whatsoever.’

She was caught in a strange snare. She looked down at her hands.

Then there was the sound of the door softly opening. Gerald started. He was chagrined. It was his starting that really startled Gudrun. Then he went forward, with quick, graceful, intentional courtesy.

‘Oh, mother!’ he said. ‘How nice of you to come down. How are you?’

The elderly woman, loosely and bulkily wrapped in a purple gown, came forward silently, slightly hulked, as usual. Her son was at her side. He pushed her up a chair, saying ‘You know Miss Brangwen, don’t you?’