‘Without pedestal — so high — ’ he measured with his hand — ’with pedestal, so — ’

He looked at her steadily. There was a little brusque, turgid contempt for her in his swift gesture, and she seemed to cringe a little.

‘And what is it done in?’ she asked, throwing back her head and looking at him with affected coldness.

He still gazed at her steadily, and his dominance was not shaken.

‘Bronze — green bronze.’

‘Green bronze!’ repeated Gudrun, coldly accepting his challenge. She was thinking of the slender, immature, tender limbs of the girl, smooth and cold in green bronze.