ven, all strangely radiant and
changeless and silent.

'It makes one feel so small and alone,' said Ursula, turning to Birkin
and laying her hand on his arm.

'You're not sorry you've come, are you?' said Gerald to Gudrun.

She looked doubtful. They went out of the station between banks of
snow.

'Ah,' said Gerald, sniffing the air in elation, 'this is perfect.
There's our sledge. We'll walk a bit--we'll run up the road.'

Gudrun, always doubtful, dropped her heavy coat on the sledge, as he
did his, and they set off. Suddenly she threw up her head and set off
scudding along the road of snow, pulling her cap down over her ears.
Her blue, bright dress fluttered in the wind, her thick scarlet
stockings were brilliant above the whiteness. Gerald watched her: she
seemed to be rushing towards her fate, and leaving him behind. He let
her get some distance, then, loosening his limbs, he went after her.

Everywhere was deep and silent snow. Great snow-eaves weighed down the
broad-roofed Tyrolese houses, that were sunk to the window-sashes in
snow. Peasant-women, full-skirted, wearing each a cross-over shawl, and
thick snow-boots, turned in the way to look at the soft, determined
girl running with such heavy fleetness from the man, who was overtaking
her, but not gaining any power over her.

They passed the inn with its painted shutters and balcony, a few
cottages, half buried in the snow; then the snow-buried silent sawmill
by the roofed bridge, which crossed the hidden stream, over which they
ran into the very depth of the untouched sheets of snow. It was a
silence and a sheer whiteness exhilarating to madness. But the perfect
silence was most terrifying, isolating the soul, surrounding the heart
with frozen air.

'It's a marvellous place, for all that,' said Gudrun, looking into his
eyes with a strange, meaning look. His soul leapt.

'Good,' he said.

A fierce electric energy seemed to flow over all his limbs, his muscles
were surcharged, his hands felt hard with strength. They walked along
rapidly up the snow-road, that was marked by withered branches of trees
stuck in at intervals. He and she were separate, like opposite poles of
one fierce energy. But they felt powerful enough to leap over the
confines of life into the forbidden places, and back again.

Birkin and Ursula were running along also, over the snow. He had
disposed of the luggage, and they had a little start of the sledges.
Ursula was excited and ha