‘Don’t you think it would?’ said Ursula, tentatively. She was never quite sure how many defences Gudrun was having round herself.

Gudrun raised her face with difficulty and held it averted.

‘I think it MIGHT be awfully jolly, as you say,’ she replied. ‘But don’t you think it was an unpardonable liberty to take — to talk of such things to Rupert — who after all — you see what I mean, Ursula — they might have been two men arranging an outing with some little TYPE they’d picked up. Oh, I think it’s unforgivable, quite!’ She used the French word ‘TYPE.’

Her eyes flashed, her soft face was flushed and sullen. Ursula looked on, rather frightened, frightened most of