ermione's, that at every
moment, she had one intimate, and turned all the rest of those present
into onlookers. This raised her into a state of triumph.

They measured and discussed in the dining-room, and Hermione decided
what the floor coverings must be. It sent her into a strange, convulsed
anger, to be thwarted. Birkin always let her have her way, for the
moment.

Then they moved across, through the hall, to the other front room, that
was a little smaller than the first.

'This is the study,' said Hermione. 'Rupert, I have a rug that I want
you to have for here. Will you let me give it to you? Do--I want to
give it you.'

'What is it like?' he asked ungraciously.

'You haven't seen it. It is chiefly rose red, then blue, a metallic,
mid-blue, and a very soft dark blue. I think you would like it. Do you
think you would?'

'It sounds very nice,' he replied. 'What is it? Oriental? With a pile?'

'Yes. Persian! It is made of camel's hair, silky. I think it is called
Bergamos--twelve feet by seven--. Do you think it will do?'

'It would DO,' he said. 'But why should you give me an expensive rug? I
can manage perfectly well with my old Oxford Turkish.'

'But may I give it to you? Do let me.'

'How much did it cost?'

She looked at him, and said:

'I don't remember. It was quite cheap.'

He looked at her, his face set.

'I don't want to take it, Hermione,' he said.

'Do let me give it to the rooms,' she said, going up to him and putting
her hand on his arm lightly, pleadingly. 'I shall be so disappointed.'

'You know I don't want you to give me things,' he repeated helplessly.

'I don't want to give you THINGS,' she said teasingly. 'But will you
have this?'

'All right,' he said, defeated, and she triumphed.

They went upstairs. There were two bedrooms to correspond with the
rooms downstairs. One of them was half furnished, and Birkin had
evidently slept there. Hermione went round the room carefully, taking
in every detail, as if absorbing the evidence of his presence, in all
the inanimate things. She felt the bed and examined the coverings.

'Are you SURE you were quite comfortable?' she said, pressing the
pillow.

'Perfectly,' he replied coldly.

'And were you warm? There is no down quilt. I am sure you need one. You
mustn't have a great pressure of clothes.'

'I've got one,' he said. 'It is coming down.'

They measured the rooms, and lingered over every consideration. Ursula
stood at the w