s
a certain pure effluence of maleness, like an aroma from his softly,
firmly moulded contours, a certain rich perfection of his presence,
that touched her with an ecstasy, a thrill of pure intoxication. She
loved to look at him. For the present she did not want to touch him, to
know the further, satisfying substance of his living body. He was
purely intangible, yet so near. Her hands lay on the paddle like
slumber, she only wanted to see him, like a crystal shadow, to feel his
essential presence.
'Yes,' he said vaguely. 'It is very beautiful.'
He was listening to the faint near sounds, the dropping of water-drops
from the oar-blades, the slight drumming of the lanterns behind him, as
they rubbed against one another, the occasional rustling of Gudrun's
full skirt, an alien land noise. His mind was almost submerged, he was
almost transfused, lapsed out for the first time in his life, into the
things about him. For he always kept such a keen attentiveness,
concentrated and unyielding in himself. Now he had let go,
imperceptibly he was melting into oneness with the whole. It was like
pure, perfect sleep, his first great sleep of life. He had been so
insistent, so guarded, all his life. But here was sleep, and peace, and
perfect lapsing out.
'Shall I row to the landing-stage?' asked Gudrun wistfully.
'Anywhere,' he answered. 'Let it drift.'
'Tell me then, if we are running into anything,' she replied, in that
very quiet, toneless voice of sheer intimacy.
'The lights will show,' he said.
So they drifted almost motionless, in silence. He wanted silence, pure
and whole. But she was uneasy yet for some word, for some assurance.
'Nobody will miss you?' she asked, anxious for some communication.
'Miss me?' he echoed. 'No! Why?'
'I wondered if anybody would be looking for you.'
'Why should they look for me?' And then he remembered his manners. 'But
perhaps you want to get back,' he said, in a changed voice.
'No, I don't want to get back,' she replied. 'No, I assure you.'
'You're quite sure it's all right for you?'
'Perfectly all right.'
And again they were still. The launch twanged and hooted, somebody was
singing. Then as if the night smashed, suddenly there was a great
shout, a confusion of shouting, warring on the water, then the horrid
noise of paddles reversed and churned violently.
Gerald sat up, and Gudrun looked at him in fear.
'Somebody in the water,' he said, angrily, and desperately
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