ning like a clergyman. '"Surely there will come an end in
us to this desire--for the constant going apart,--this passion for
putting asunder--everything--ourselves, reducing ourselves part from
part--reacting in intimacy only for destruction,--using sex as a great
reducing agent, reducing the two great elements of male and female from
their highly complex unity--reducing the old ideas, going back to the
savages for our sensations,--always seeking to LOSE ourselves in some
ultimate black sensation, mindless and infinite--burning only with
destructive fires, raging on with the hope of being burnt out
utterly--"'

'I want to go,' said Gudrun to Gerald, as she signalled the waiter. Her
eyes were flashing, her cheeks were flushed. The strange effect of
Birkin's letter read aloud in a perfect clerical sing-song, clear and
resonant, phrase by phrase, made the blood mount into her head as if
she were mad.

She rose, whilst Gerald was paying the bill, and walked over to
Halliday's table. They all glanced up at her.

'Excuse me,' she said. 'Is that a genuine letter you are reading?'

'Oh yes,' said Halliday. 'Quite genuine.'

'May I see?'

Smiling foolishly he handed it to her, as if hypnotised.

'Thank you,' she said.

And she turned and walked out of the Cafe with the letter, all down the
brilliant room, between the tables, in her measured fashion. It was
some moments before anybody realised what was happening.

From Halliday's table came half articulate cries, then somebody booed,
then all the far end of the place began booing after Gudrun's
retreating form. She was fashionably dressed in blackish-green and
silver, her hat was brilliant green, like the sheen on an insect, but
the brim was soft dark green, a falling edge with fine silver, her coat
was dark green, lustrous, with a high collar of grey fur, and great fur
cuffs, the edge of her dress showed silver and black velvet, her
stockings and shoes were silver grey. She moved with slow, fashionable
indifference to the door. The porter opened obsequiously for her, and,
at her nod, hurried to the edge of the pavement and whistled for a
taxi. The two lights of a vehicle almost immediately curved round
towards her, like two eyes.

Gerald had followed in wonder, amid all the booing, not having caught
her misdeed. He heard the Pussum's voice saying:

'Go and get it back from her. I never heard of such a thing! Go and get
it back from her. Tell Gerald Crich--there he