‘Really!’

‘Class-barriers are breaking down!’

Gerald was always uneasy under the slightly jeering tone of the other.

‘That their father is handicraft instructor in a school! What does it matter to me?’

Birkin laughed. Gerald looked at his face, as it lay there laughing and bitter and indifferent on the pillow, and he could not go away.

‘I don’t suppose you will see very much more of Gudrun, at least. She is a restless bird, she’ll be gone in a week or two,’ said Birkin.

‘Where will she go?’

‘London, Paris, Rome — heaven knows. I always expect her to sheer off to Damascus or San Francisco; she’s