suggest himself as a husband to her; she knew how utterly locked
out he was。 On the other hand; when she saw Dorothy; and
discussed the matter; she felt she would marry him promptly; at
once; as a sharp disavowal of adherence with Dorothys
views。
The situation was almost ridiculous。
〃But do you love him?〃 asked Dorothy。
〃It isnt a question of loving him;〃 said Ursula。 〃I love him
well enough……certainly more than I love anybody else in the
world。 And I shall never love anybody else the same again。 We
have had the flower of each other。 But I dont care about love。
I dont value it。 I dont care whether I love or whether I
dont; whether I have love or whether I havent。 What is it to
me?〃
And she shrugged her shoulders in fierce; angry contempt。
Dorothy pondered; rather angry and afraid。
〃Then what do you care about?〃 she asked;
exasperated。
〃I dont know;〃 said Ursula。 〃But something impersonal。
Love……love……love……what does it mean……what
does it amount to? So much personal gratification。 It doesnt
lead anywhere。〃
〃It isnt supposed to lead anywhere; is it?〃 said Dorothy;
satirically。 〃I thought it was the one thing which is an end in
itself。〃
〃Then what does it matter to me?〃 cried Ursula。 〃As an end in
itself; I could love a hundred men; one after the other。 Why
should I end with a Skrebensky? Why should I not go on; and love
all the types I fancy; one after another; if love is an end in
itself? There are plenty of men who arent Anton; whom I could
love……whom I would like to love。〃
〃Then you dont love him;〃 said Dorothy。
〃I tell you I do;……quite as much; and perhaps more than
I should love any of the others。 Only there are plenty of things
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