They are like serpents trying to swallow themselves because they
are hungry。〃
Ursula was introduced by her friend to various women and men;
educated; unsatisfied people; who still moved within the smug
provincial society as if they were nearly as tame as their
outward behaviour showed; but who were inwardly raging and
mad。
It was a strange world the girl was swept into; like a chaos;
like the end of the world。 She was too young to understand it
all。 Yet the inoculation passed into her; through her love for
her mistress。
The examination came; and then school was over。 It was the
long vacation。 Winifred Inger went away to London。 Ursula was
left alone in Cossethay。 A terrible; outcast; almost poisonous
despair possessed her。 It was no use doing anything; or being
anything。 She had no connection with other people。 Her lot was
isolated and deadly。 There was nothing for her anywhere; but
this black disintegration。 Yet; within all the great attack of
disintegration upon her; she remained herself。 It was the
terrible core of all her suffering; that she was always herself。
Never could she escape that: she could not put off being
herself。
She still adhered to Winifred Inger。 But a sort of nausea was
ing over her。 She loved her mistress。 But a heavy; clogged
sense of deadness began to gather upon her; from the other
womans contact。 And sometimes she thought Winifred was ugly;
clayey。 Her female hips seemed big and earthy; her ankles and
her arms were too thick。 She wanted some fine intensity; instead
of this heavy cleaving of moist clay; that cleaves because it
has no life of its own。
Winifred still loved Ursula。 She had a passion for the fine
flame of the girl; she served her endlessly; would have done
anything for her。
〃e with me to London;〃 she pleaded to the girl。 〃I will
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