ed into his.

'What are they?' she asked.

'Sort of petunia, I suppose,' he answered. 'I don't really know them.'

'They are quite strangers to me,' she said.

They stood together in a false intimacy, a nervous contact. And he was
in love with her.

She was aware of Mademoiselle standing near, like a little French
beetle, observant and calculating. She moved away with Winifred, saying
they would go to find Bismarck.

Gerald watched them go, looking all the while at the soft, full, still
body of Gudrun, in its silky cashmere. How silky and rich and soft her
body must be. An excess of appreciation came over his mind, she was the
all-desirable, the all-beautiful. He wanted only to come to her,
nothing more. He was only this, this being that should come to her, and
be given to her.

At the same time he was finely and acutely aware of Mademoiselle's
neat, brittle finality of form. She was like some elegant beetle with
thin ankles, perched on her high heels, her glossy black dress
perfectly correct, her dark hair done high and admirably. How repulsive
her completeness and her finality was! He loathed her.

Yet he did admire her. She was perfectly correct. And it did rather
annoy him, that Gudrun came dressed in startling colours, like a macaw,
when the family was in mourning. Like a macaw she was! He watched the
lingering way she took her feet from the ground. And her ankles were
pale yellow, and her dress a deep blue. Yet it pleased him. It pleased
him very much. He felt the challenge in her very attire-she challenged
the whole world. And he smiled as to the note of a trumpet.

Gudrun and Winifred went through the house to the back, where were the
stables and the out-buildings. Everywhere was still and deserted. Mr
Crich had gone out for a short drive, the stableman had just led round
Gerald's horse. The two girls went to the hutch that stood in a corner,
and looked at the great black-and-white rabbit.

'Isn't he beautiful! Oh, do look at him listening! Doesn't he look
silly!' she laughed quickly, then added 'Oh, do let's do him listening,
do let us, he listens with so much of himself;-don't you darling
Bismarck?'

'Can we take him out?' said Gudrun.

'He's very strong. He really is extremely strong.' She looked at
Gudrun, her head on one side, in odd calculating mistrust.

'But we'll try, shall we?'

'Yes, if you like. But he's a fearful kicker!'

They took the key to unlock the door. The rabbit exploded