'Yes, I believe that too. I believe it. And mind you, I don't care how
it is with me--I don't care how it is--so long as I don't feel--' he
paused, and a blank, barren look passed over his face, to express his
feeling--'so long as I feel I've LIVED, somehow--and I don't care how
it is--but I want to feel that--'

'Fulfilled,' said Birkin.

'We-ell, perhaps it is fulfilled; I don't use the same words as you.'

'It is the same.'

CHAPTER XXI.

THRESHOLD

Gudrun was away in London, having a little show of her work, with a
friend, and looking round, preparing for flight from Beldover. Come
what might she would be on the wing in a very short time. She received
a letter from Winifred Crich, ornamented with drawings.

'Father also has been to London, to be examined by the doctors. It made
him very tired. They say he must rest a very great deal, so he is
mostly in bed. He brought me a lovely tropical parrot in faience, of
Dresden ware, also a man ploughing, and two mice climbing up a stalk,
also in faience. The mice were Copenhagen ware. They are the best, but
mice don't shine so much, otherwise they are very good, their tails are
slim and long. They all shine nearly like glass. Of course it is the
glaze, but I don't like it. Gerald likes the man ploughing the best,
his trousers are torn, he is ploughing with an ox, being I suppose a
German peasant. It is all grey and white, white shirt and grey
trousers, but very shiny and clean. Mr Birkin likes the girl best,
under the hawthorn blossom, with a lamb, and with daffodils painted on
her skirts, in the drawing room. But that is silly, because the lamb is
not a real lamb, and she is silly too.

'Dear Miss Brangwen, are you coming back soon, you are very much missed
here. I enclose a drawing of father sitting up in bed. He says he hopes
you are not going to forsake us. Oh dear Miss Brangwen, I am sure you
won't. Do come back and draw the ferrets, they are the most lovely
noble darlings in the world. We might carve them in holly-wood, playing
against a background of green leaves. Oh do let us, for they are most
beautiful.

'Father says we might have a studio. Gerald says we could easily have a
beautiful one over the stables, it would only need windows to be put in
the slant of the roof, which is a simple matter. Then you could stay
here all day and work, and we could live in the studio, like two real
artists, like the man in the picture in the hall, with the fr